


Rewind

by SterekShipper



Series: Cursed Theo [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Changing POV, Cursed Theo Raeken, De-Aged Theo Raeken, M/M, emerging relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26679907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterekShipper/pseuds/SterekShipper
Summary: When a witch arrives in Beacon Hills, destruction and harm follows. Can the Pack stop her? Can they restore peace and undo the harm she’s caused?More to the point, what happened to Theo? Can the witch’s curse be undone?
Relationships: Theo Raeken/Liam Dunbar
Series: Cursed Theo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941367
Comments: 102
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. 😁
> 
> This is the first instalment in my Cursed Theo series. I thought Theo would be the one to fall into troubling situations when it comes to witches, given his personality and sarcasm, and well... this was formed.
> 
> Here’s to the situations Theo finds himself in. 😁
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy. 🤞

“Why is it, you wolves always need to intervene in the affairs of others?”  
“Did you ever consider it might be because you’re trying to destroy the town?” Witches. It had to be witches. He’d known about them, and heard the stories, but not once did he think they were real. As far as he knew, they were myths. After all, no one had seen one; the stories seemed more like tall tales than possible encounters. Besides, the last story to be passed around was centuries old. It was fair to assume witches were one supernatural creature to remain as such. Then again, when had luck ever been on their side?

“Foolish boy. This town you lay claim to, exists alongside mere mortals. You align yourself with filth; with creatures of inferior caliber. Once our equal, werewolves have become no more than servants to humankind.”  
So, it turns out, not only do witches exist, but they also possess an egocentric persona. That never goes wrong. For the past week, they had been chasing this woman across Beacon Hills. So far, there had been fires, property coming to life and people disappearing. They’d yet to find any of the missing people; which in one sense was a relief. At least there were no dead bodies.

“I don’t know what you expect to achieve here, but it’s not going to happen.”  
A deep cackle rose; so loud as to shake the trees at their core. The vibration buried deep within the ground; threatening to uproot an array of taller trees, lining the clearing beside them. The Pack stood silent, ready to proceed at a moment’s notice. Scott’s earlier appeal had fallen flat; making it clear this woman was in no mood to mess around. Nor was she willing to concede defeat. There was no avoiding this fight, no matter how much Scott wanted to.

“Oh, how you boys like to pretend. Playtime’s over. It’s time to grow up. I will grant you but one warning. Do not squander it.”  
A flash of anger flickered across his eyes; his caution clouded by indignation. “I’d think twice before speaking again. I let it slide when you called me a servant; with great restraint I might add; and this is a warning not to call me a boy, but I _won’t_ let it go a third time.” He had been underestimated too many times already. He was not about to stand by while it happened again.

“There is a profound resentment within you; a need to be seen as strong; to be revered. You despise weakness; a trait you refuse to show. The problem is you are. There is nothing remotely remarkable about you. You are but a boy, who wishes to be more than he is. Building yourself up, won’t change who you are inside; it will only make the inevitable fall that much harder.”

That’s it. He’d given her a chance to back down. It’s not his fault if she chose not to take it. It started as a single slash; one which the witch avoided with ease. That one movement was all it took. From there, the meeting descended into utter chaos. What came next, was a flurry of limbs and attacks; all of which fell short. Anytime one of the Pack came close, she would disappear into thin air, leaving not a trace of her whereabouts.

It wasn’t until the next person made a move, that the others would see her. With every missed attempt, his frustration grew. It grated on his nerves; wearing down his fragile patience. Ever since he had returned; ever since that day in the tunnels, he had lacked the ability to wait. He had been left with the need to act; something he hadn’t been able to do when Kira had pulled out that sword. That cursed sword.

Even now, after all these years, he couldn’t get that sword out of his mind. Cold terror settled in his veins with just a thought of the cold steel; the idea of seeing it again left him sick.

If the witch wanted to play cat and mouse, then he’d play. Only he wasn’t the mouse. It would require restraint, but he would find her. Waiting, he watched as the scene unfolded around him. Liam’s shout to do something reached him, but was pushed to the back of his mind. It was the same with Stiles’ comments; each of which were new variations of ‘Typical. Theo starts a fight, then sits back while the rest of us clean it up.’

With forced calm, he was able to track the witch’s path. He waited until she had crossed the clearing a few times, before lunging forward; eyes fixed on her back; only to land painfully on the opposite side to her. A sharp pain surged through his arm; the same arm that was currently facing the wrong way.

Without giving it a second thought, he snapped his elbow back into place; the bones already healing as he threw himself forward once more. The growl he let out, was nothing short of primal. How did that woman keep avoiding him? Magic or not, that didn’t explain how she knew their every move before they’d made it.

“You are all so predictable. The desperate air that defines you... it’s pitiful.”  
He was so done. He was _sick_ of being undermined and degraded. A shrill screech caused flocks of birds to scatter; the air filled with their upheaval. Blood dripped from the witch’s back, where his claws had sliced.  
“Not so predictable now, am I?”  
“How dare you?!”

Why answer, when he could take the advantage, and show her once and for all he wasn’t to be trifled with? Another shriek followed the sudden movement on his part; only this time she managed to dodge. Of course, she’d had a little help; what with Liam pulling him back by the arm.  
“Theo, stop. You’re going too far.” Liam ever the voice of reason. Too bad he wasn’t in the mood to listen.  
“ _She’s_ the one terrorising the town!”  
“Which is why Scott’s trying to defuse the situation.”

“Oh, because that’s been working so well.” Why was everything with these people about negotiations? How did they survive so many threats, with the mindset they could just talk their way out of it?  
“You losing control isn’t getting us anywhere.”  
“I did _not_ lose control.”

“You wolves. As pathetic as ever.” Naturally, the witch’s sneer further fuelled his anger.  
“Why, I-” Even Liam couldn’t hold him back, now. Not when he was this riled up. He barely heard his name being shouted; a last attempt to convince him to stop. Any other time, he would have listened. He would have let Liam lead him away, but not this time. Not when this woman had no intent to leave, or stop insulting him. He made it all of two steps, before he felt his feet harden. It felt as if his bones had turned to stone. In fact, it was as if they had melded with the ground beneath.

He couldn’t move; unable to do anything, as the weighted sensation flooded his veins, until every inch of his body was immobile.  
“I have never seen someone so feral; so barbaric.” The witch spat the words with such venom, a trace of anxiety arose. His nerves intensified when he realised Liam and the others were frozen as well. Liam’s shouts to release them went unheeded. “I will let your friends go, shortly. They are mere nuisances. This simply prevents any interruptions, on their part. You however, are unstable, and cannot be allowed passage without a means of control.”

There wasn’t time to think, let alone question what any of that was supposed to mean. As the final word was being uttered, a spark of light trailed from her fingers and encircled him in an instant. It pulsed with the following incantation; a faint hum signalling a reaction within the magic. He would have questioned what she was doing, but he found he couldn’t.

She had rendered him mute, and a quick scan of the Pack, told him they were all in the same boat. That’s when it registered. He had all of a second to think ‘shit’, before the witch finished. A _spell_. He should have known when she started speaking Latin. It was instant. The glowing ring bonding him exploded, shrouding the Preserve in a blinding white light. The last thought he had before the darkness took him, was Liam’s voice calling his name in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a moment before he could see; the spots dotting his vision took longer still to fade. The witch was nowhere to be seen. Magic. He’d always thought he’d love it. It had seemed fun; something about the mystery of it was intriguing. Now that he’d seen it closely, it wasn’t as appealing. Scott, Corey and Malia were unaffected; the effects likewise having worn off. Stiles, Mason and Lydia, on the other hand, appeared a little disoriented. If the light had been overwhelming for him, it would have been worse for the humans of the group. Luckily, no one had been affected past the initial side effects.

“Theo?” His eyes landed on the figure ahead. It’s possible he was wrong. Maybe his eyes had sustained damage after all. That was the only explanation for what he was seeing, or it would have been, had the others not looked equally lost. There on the grass, was Theo.

Only he didn’t look like Theo; at least not as he knew him. He was currently looking at the child version of Theo. “Theo?” Were it not for the steady heartbeat, he would have been more concerned. “What did she do?” No one had an answer. The only idea they had, was when Mason proposed seeing Deaton. In hindsight, it was fairly obvious. Though, he had been a little preoccupied.

It was easier than he’d expected to lift Theo and carry him to the truck. It felt wrong to be sitting in the driver’s seat; especially given the circumstances. Not that he had a choice. Theo was in no position to drive; besides, he wasn’t about to walk the entire way. Theo appeared peaceful; innocent. It was quite the sight.

By the time he reached the clinic, Deaton was waiting for them. The others pulled in behind, and he carried Theo through the open door; placing him gently on the exam table.  
It didn’t require an inspection to see what the witch had done. Deaton observed nonetheless; taking note of Theo’s vitals.

”It is as it appears; a de-ageing spell. What further implications have arisen as a result, will have to wait until Theo wakes up.”  
Sounds easy, right? Wrong. If they at least had some indication of when that would be, it might be okay. As it was, Deaton couldn’t even offer an estimate. The only reassurance they had was that Theo _would_ wake up.

This never would have happened if Theo knew when to stop talking. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, there was no way around the fight itself. It would have happened one way or another, because she was never going to stand down. That didn’t mean it had to play out like this. If Theo hadn’t insisted on attacking _a witch_ , then she wouldn’t have been so focused on him. Why wait to formulate a plan, when you can throw yourself at the problem?

It took four hours before Theo finally showed signs of coming to. Stiles had disappeared for a while, claiming this could take all day. Mason and Corey had stepped outside for some fresh air twice, and Malia had left under the opinion she wasn’t waiting around for Theo. He, Scott and Lydia were the only ones who never left the room. Scott felt a sense of responsibility over what happened;(unwarranted if you asked him). Lydia wouldn’t leave until she knew Theo was safe, and knew how bad the curse was.

Then there was him. He was waiting, eyes fixed on Theo’s sleeping form, prepared to let Theo know how stupid that was. Lydia was the first to notice the initial changes; the minute finger twitch, his lower lip pulled between his teeth. A rise in heart rate followed; Theo’s head shifted to the side. He watched as Theo slowly opened his eyes; blinking as if taking in the new surroundings.

“Liam?” Theo’s voice was softer, lighter. It was missing a certain heaviness he’d grown use to hearing. Almost like Theo’s worries had been drained; or at least the mark it had left on Theo’s body. “Scott? Where are we?”

No one answered at first; the room was silent. “Are you going to answer or not?” Theo’s impatience was impossible to miss; a trace of frustration seeping in. Somehow, he couldn’t find the words to speak. Everything he’d planned to say, was forgotten. “ _Liam_.”  
Finally, he felt something connect within his brain. A switch had been turned on and he found himself able to think straight.   
“The Animal Clinic.”

“Why are you all staring at me like I grew a second head?”  
The door flew open as Stiles and Malia walked in; Malia scowling and Stiles with a wide grin. Too wide if you asked him. This wasn’t something to be happy about. Here we go. “You’re awake! Did you have a nice nap?”  
“Shut up, Stiles.”  
“Now, Theo. Don’t make me put you in time out.” Theo growled, quickly losing any patience he had left. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

“You haven’t told Theo yet, have you?” Stiles’ grin grew; their silence confirming his thoughts. He knew Stiles would have no problem revealing the truth, but he also knew it wouldn’t be said with sympathy or tact.  
“Told me what?” He met Theo’s eyes; narrowed with suspicion and slight concern. Where to start? It’s not like he could just come out and say ‘you’re a child again’. It was fair to say Theo would flip when he realised; nothing was going to lessen the shock. “Liam, if you don’t tell me right now-”

“What do you remember?”  
“Being in the Preserve with that obnoxious witch. That’s it.” The bitter tone was fair, given the circumstances and all. “Feel free to fill me in at any time.”

“If you boys won’t say it, I will. The witch cursed you.” Blunt as always. You have to love Lydia.  
Theo swallowed; he could practically feel the nerves rolling off Theo. Why he could suddenly sense how Theo was feeling, and hear every increased heartbeat was beyond him. “What did she do?” Theo’s voice remained even; his composure seemingly intact. When Stiles held up a mirror, the tension in the room doubled.

This wasn’t going to go well. Sure enough, Theo froze. Wide-eyed and hysteric, Theo looked murderous. “Are you kidding me?! I’m going to kill her! When I get my hands on her-”  
“Calm down, Theo.”  
“I will not _calm down_ , Liam. She’ll pay for this.”

“Can we focus on turning you back first, before declaring revenge?” Sometimes, he really felt like he was babysitting a toddler. Even before this whole mess. Trying to reason with Theo could be so tiring; especially when he’s so worked up.  
“Do you have a plan?”  
“Right now, we’ve been trying to understand exactly what the spell did. Obviously it was designed to de-age you, but it hasn’t affected your memory.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. As long as I don’t forget anything. Everything’s fine.” Theo would be sarcastic. He should have expected as much.  
”Is there anything else? Do you feel any different?”  
“There’s something. More than just my body. It’s like something’s missing.”  
“How old are you?”  
“How would I know?! I didn’t just revert to an age of my choice, Liam. I have no clue how old I’m supposed to be!”

“Nine.” Scott said it with absolute certainty. “You’re nine.”  
“How do you know?” He had to ask. It was, after all, hard to determine. Which is why it had been a ridiculous question in the first place.  
It was Stiles who explained. “Scott’s right. Theo disappeared when he was nine. Just before that, we were skateboarding and Theo fell. He cut his arm and the scar’s right there.”

Sure enough, below Theo’s left elbow, was a scar the size of a shard of glass. The fact it was there, meant this was more than just a superficial spell. It wasn’t just a shell to enclose Theo in; Theo was his nine-year-old self. Apart from retaining all current memories, this body was exactly the same as it was when Theo was really this young. Which could only mean...

“Theo’s human.” Malia’s grin was terrifying. You never knew what she was thinking, and from the way Theo took a step back, he wasn’t the only one concerned about that. There was no telling what Malia would do with that knowledge.

He’d finally started to understand the past few hours; being human was the missing piece. Ot would explain why Theo felt like something was missing. It was the lack of his Coyote and Wolf. It explained why he could hear and sense Theo’s emotions. It felt as though Theo weren’t even trying to hide his scent; his heartbeat. The truth was, he couldn’t. A wave of guilt set in; a feeling he couldn’t shake.

Why did it feel like he’d violated Theo’s trust? It’s not like this was a conscious choice on his part. Maybe because he knew Theo wouldn’t see it that way. Especially if he hid the fact.  
“So, that’s why we can hear Theo’s heartbeat?”  
“What?!” Theo’s screech left his ears ringing; the presence of green eyes on him never fading.  
“I’ve heard it since he woke up.”

No one had an answer. Even Deaton appeared at a loss. Their best guess came in the form of Stiles’ suggestion. “It was the Dread Doctors who taught Theo to control his signals. Since this is his nine-year-old body, maybe his abilities reverted as well. He wouldn’t have known how to mask his heartbeat at this age.”

“That would explain why he reeks. All I can smell are his nerves.” Malia never did shy away from her thoughts; sensitivity was still a work in progress.  
“I’m not-” Theo’s defence ended when Malia narrowed her eyes, and Stiles raised an eyebrow, as if daring Theo to challenge her. To say she lied or worse, that she’s wrong. With that, Theo huffed and walked away. Heading straight for the door.  
“Where are you going?” Corey, who had stayed silent alongside Mason, called.  
“Out.”

Not that he didn’t understand, but the gruff tone was getting old. As bad as he felt, this was still Theo’s fault. The muttered ‘moody much?’ from Stiles was rewarded with a hard look from Lydia; if there was one way to shut Stiles up, it would have to be Lydia. You’d have to be an idiot to not be intimidated.  
“You can’t go on your own.” Six words. Six words and Scott had made Theo stop. “Take Liam with you.”

Embarrassed anger hit his nose; stronger than anything he’d ever picked up on from anyone. Theo levelled Scott with a furious glare after turning back around. “This is a joke, right?” When no confirmation came, Theo snapped. “I’m _nine_ , Scott. Not four. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“What do you think the hunters will do if they find out? Let alone the witch. If they find you, you can’t protect yourself.”  
“I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I don’t need to be watched like some defenceless child!”

When it became clear Scott wasn’t going to relent, Theo stormed out, slamming the door. The force was so hard it shook shelves of vials containing who knows what, that Deaton had stored. Theo may not be four, but he certainly acted like it. By the time he’d made it outside, Theo was already climbing into the driver’s seat. He barely managed to grab the keys before the engine could be switched on.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”  
“Theo, you can’t drive.”  
“I know what to do, Liam. We already established my memories are intact.”  
“You can hardly see the road. Now, move over.”

Would Theo give in that easy? Would it ever be that simple? Of course, not. That was too much to ask. It took several minutes of staring at one another, neither showing any sign of backing down, before Theo finally exited the drivers seat. It was odd being here. No one was allowed to drive Theo’s truck. It had been one thing when Theo was unconscious, but it was completely different now he was aware.

It was clear this was distressing for Theo. He understood. It was personal. He wouldn’t like someone using his lacrosse stick. So it’s fair to assume Theo wouldn’t like being forced to be a passenger. The sound of the ignition starting was the only sound between them. The tension was stifling, and after a few minutes, he wanted nothing more than to be out of this truck. “So, where are we going?” Nothing. “Where do you want to go, Theo?” Still nothing. “Do you want to go home? I can take you-“

“No!” Well, that was abrupt. It certainly got an answer, but not one he would’ve anticipated. It was a little worrying to be honest. The concern was amplified by the frantic pace at which Theo’s heartbeat was going.  
“Are you sure? It would be comfortable-” He couldn’t hide a snort at Theo’s glare. It was losing its effect. “You do realise that’s not going to work? It’s more adorable than anything.” That only resulted in Theo turning back to the window again. “My house it is then.”

He said nothing about the way Theo’s heart slowed, or the slight relief he noticed. For now, they had more pressing matters at hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Awkward. That’s the simplest way to describe the conversation with Liam’s parents. On the drive here, he hadn’t stopped to think about how they would explain this. Somehow, he’d neglected the possibility of seeing Jenna and David at all. On the one hand, they were already aware of the supernatural. It had come to light during the war with the hunters and the Anuk-ite. There were only so many ways to explain the constant torn clothing; the damage caused, and when the town physically see your eyes glow along with your claws, well... there’s really no way around that.

Luckily, Liam’s parents had taken the news rather well. One would expect some hesitation; a certain degree of withdrawal, and yet there had been nothing. Jenna and David had readily accepted their son, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. It was as if Liam had come home one day, and announced he was a star lacrosse player, rather than a living, breathing werewolf.

The one condition had been they were to be kept informed. If anything was wrong; if any new threats arose, they wanted to know. Liam also had to let them know if he and the Pack were planning on going after any of the aforementioned threats. For the same reason, his first time meeting Jenna and David had been rocky. Liam had felt it appropriate to let them in on his history. Liam hadn’t even warned him. It is quite confronting to be ambushed and interrogated. If that wasn’t bad enough, he wasn’t allowed to leave either.

Liam was blocking the door and refused to move until they were satisfied. The details, at least, were sparse. Liam’s justification when he demanded an answer later was he simply forgot. Telling your parents someone is a murderer is not something you just forget. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought Liam had deliberately set him up. There was a moment he even swore he saw Liam smile.

For the first few months, anytime he stepped foot inside the Dunbar-Geyer house, he felt like he was being watched. It had taken nearly a year to convince Jenna he wasn’t planning on killing anyone. Even then, she had still threatened him. She had made it abundantly clear that if he hurt Liam; if he hurt anyone, she would come for him. Though he’d never admit it, he was scared to know what Jenna would do. Not that he had any intention of finding out.

On the other hand, no one had been prepared for a de-aged person to become part of the mix. When Jenna and David met them at the door, they had been quite confused about the boy standing beside Liam. That didn’t change when Liam tried to explain.  
“You remember Theo?”  
Smooth Liam. Real smooth.

“Your friend?” Jenna, as expected, didn’t understand the connection. In light of that, he excused the inaccurate term. Liam may not completely hate him anymore, and he may not despise his company as he once did; but he and Liam were far from _friends_. “What about him?”  
“Say hello.”

Sometimes he wondered how Liam made it through school. I mean, seriously. How could this be the same person acing history? ’ _Say hello?_ ’ A little more information might be needed here. It was clear from the puzzled stares directed their way, Jenna and David agreed. Once Liam finally explained the full story, the confusion shifted and he was met with duel stares.

Despite their good intentions, their concern was making him increasingly uncomfortable. It made him feel brittle; vulnerable, and those were two emotions he doesn’t do. By the time he made it to Liam’s room, he was ready to scream. Something about Liam’s house had always felt right. Like it was calling to him. More than likely, it was the simple fact this was a house. It felt safe; welcoming. That didn’t stop him from feeling like an outsider; the constant sense he was intruding.

Those two notions were at war within him; now more than ever. The calming security that never failed to ease his nerves; to make it a little easier to breathe, was fighting an almost impossible battle with his growing need to leave. To be anywhere else. Anywhere that didn’t involve him as a nine-year-old boy.

“We’re lucky my parents understand all of this. Otherwise, that would have been a difficult conversation.” Oh, because it was a walk in the park down there. Liam seemed determined to find the good in this mess. Well, he for one, wasn’t buying into it. “Are you going to say something, or are you going to continue pouting?”  
“I’m _not_ pouting.”

“Right, I forgot. You always refuse to talk, while you stare at the floor as if it personally offended you.”  
Why did Liam have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t Liam just let it go? “What do you want me to say? I think it’s pretty obvious what I think about the spell. Talking about it is useless. It’s not going to fix anything.”  
“Then why don’t you do something, instead of sitting there feeling sorry for yourself?” Liam was right. He usually was these days.

Frustrating as it was, it had its benefits. That’s how he found himself sitting in a chair beside the window, with Liam at the desk, both reading books on witches. Apparently, Stiles let Liam borrow some when the Pack had first learned of the attacks on Beacon Hills. During their research, Liam asked about his work. Something about the fact he couldn’t turn up like this. All it took was a quick ‘I’ll call in sick’, to satisfy Liam. There were no more questions after that, much to his relief.

They both resumed reading in silence. After the fourth book, he wanted to throw it across the room. There was nothing in these pages that they didn’t already know. The only mentions of curses, were that they were possible and varied from inconvenient to life-threatening. He knew which of the two this curse fell into. It was definitely life-threatening. Not him but for the witch. When he got his hands on her, she’d regret messing with him. The books were useless for that, though. There was nothing they could use; nothing on how to break one.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Liam was looking at him like he might snap. Just what he needed. The beta was going soft on him. He may as well have been wrapped in cotton wool at this point.  
“Stop treating me like I’m incapable of doing anything. I’m fine. I can think for myself.” Curse of not, he wouldn’t be treated like a child. Not as long as his memories were intact. Not as long as he remembered his true age. “I don’t need you coddling me.”  
“I’m trying to help.”

“How’s that working out for you, Liam? We’re no closer to finding an answer, I’m _stuck_ here and you want to rest!”  
“What do you want to do?”  
He fell silent, unsure of what Liam was asking. There was a hidden meaning, he knew that much. He just didn’t know what that was yet. His suspicion didn’t go unnoticed, given the way Liam rolled his eyes. “It’s a simple question, Theo.”  
“I just told you-”

“Not the curse. That goes without saying. What do you want to do now? Do you want to continue researching? Do you want to take a break? Do you want to throw or break something? What do you want?”

Honestly, he didn’t know. He’d been too focused on the long term, to worry about right now. Nothing sounded useful; nothing felt right. “I don’t know.” A defeated sigh escaped; he was drained.  
“Why don’t we watch a movie? We can come back to finding the witch, once we relax and have a clear mind.” Why not? There wasn’t anything else to do. The next twenty minutes consisted of Liam trying to pick a movie. Who knew it would be so hard to choose between ‘Tomb Raider’ and ‘Indiana Jones’?

He’d never seen either, so he couldn’t really offer his opinion. Of course, as soon as he said that, Liam insisted they watch both. It was decided they’d start with Tomb Raider since there were less movies in the series, then move onto Indiana Jones. He had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Nor did he mind. When the movie started, he found he couldn’t look away. He was hooked from the first scene. Jenna knocked on the door during the credits to call them for dinner; something which was usually required to be eaten at the family dining table. It took a lot of effort to convince Jenna to allow them to eat in Liam’s room, and even then, only for tonight.

The sequel was just as good, if not better. It was easy to see why Liam liked the series so much. It was definitely a good idea to take a moment to just breathe. He felt a little better, now he wasn’t on the verge of screaming. The Raiders of the Arc was just as promising. If only he could keep his eyes open... and off Liam’s bed.

“Are you tired?”  
Of course Liam would notice. “I’m fine.”  
“It’s okay if you are.”  
“I said I’m fine.”  
“It’s getting late. Mum won’t be happy if we don’t go to sleep. We can watch the rest tomorrow.”  
He was fighting a losing battle. It took longer to stand up than he’d care to admit. He really was tired, and he’d sunk into the chair over the past few hours.

“Where are you going?” There was a touch of confusion in Liam’s voice, that left him doubting himself. Had he misunderstood?  
“The couch?”  
“Why would you sleep on the couch when the bed’s right here?”  
Was this a joke? It had to be. “I’m not taking your-”  
“Do you have to disagree with everything I say? You’re a guest, and this is happening whether you like it or not.”

Has he ever said how impossible it is to argue with Liam? It’s like talking to a brick wall. Begrudgingly, he laid down. The bed was as comfortable as he’d imagined; it felt as though he was lying on a cloud. The second his head touched the pillow, his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.


	4. Chapter 4

_Tara. There was no way out. Every step seemed to lead back to her, and he couldn’t breathe. A hand tightened around his ankle, dragging him roughly to the floor. A chill set in; his blood turning to ice under that hateful stare. The lack of emotion; the lack of sympathy. All he saw was a desire for revenge; an endless torment that was only just beginning. No warning. No mercy._

_That same hand; the one which prevented him from leaving; which held him captive, now tore through his chest. It tore apart his ribcage as though it were nothing more than water. Tears pricked at the edge of his eyes; ready but never falling. The hand pulled out, his heart in tow. Each breath failed; silent gasps accompanied his shock. He collapsed; lifeless. “Stop!” He sat up, sweating and heart racing. A nauseating weight settled deep in his stomach._

_It was dark; _too dark_. It was quiet, but not eerily so. He didn’t feel the overwhelming knowledge he was being watched. The door burst open, startling him and shattering any notion of being alone. Without warning, the room was filled with light. It felt so familiar and yet, so out of place._

_  
“Theo-” He felt hands reach for him; sending him into a cold sweat. He withdrew, flinching as if touched by fire.  
“No! Not again. Please, not again.” It had to stop. He couldn’t take anymore. Just make it stop. Legs pulled tight to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them to cover his heart. To protect it.  
“Theo, it’s me. Liam.”_

Liam. No. Not, Liam. It can’t- It wouldn’t- “Please, don’t hurt me.” It was a mere whisper; spoken more on a breath of air, than with any conviction.

“I’m not- Theo, you’re safe. You’re in my room, remember?”  
He wasn’t- He’d been in the morgue. He’d been... sleeping. The memory came back. Reality hit with a deafening force. If he’d been sleeping, then it had all been another nightmare. Which would have been a relief, except he wasn’t alone. Liam was here. Liam had seen.

“I’m fine.” Cold, calculated. His voice lacked any trace of how he felt. His heart likely betrayed his words, but he wouldn’t break. He wasn’t weak, and he wouldn’t be seen as such. No matter how terrified he was.  
Liam’s concern was replaced with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” The lights were switched off, the door closed.

Laying down, he pulled the pillow close. His head buried in the soft material, he took a few calming breaths. He was alive. Tara couldn’t get him. The same reassurances; the same reminders, every time he had a nightmare. Only tonight there was a new one. He was alive and with Liam. With that thought in mind, he fell asleep. This time free from that vengeful hand.

He couldn’t tell how long it had been since he’d closed his eyes when he woke. He heard something but he had no idea what. “Liam?” A hand covered his mouth, sending him into a panic. He had no way of knowing what was going on, or who this person was. Not when it was pitch black. He couldn’t begin to describe how unsettling it was to have such dull senses.

It had been years since he’d experienced being human, and it was one he would gladly do without. The unexpected brightness of what he assumed to be a torch, was worse the dark. He blinked countless times, desperately trying to comprehend his surroundings and the danger he was in. Once his eyes adjusted, the spots having cleared, he felt the air leave his body. Standing there, leaning over him with a malicious grin, was a hunter. The same one who’d attacked the Pack a couple of months ago. The attack had failed; Scott and Derek easily overpowered the three men, but one managed to escape before Sheriff Stilinski arrived.

Those unforgiving eyes were now fixed on him. “I don’t believe it. Someone told me Theo Raeken had been cursed, but it sounded too good to be true. A powerless child? It would be too easy. Yet here you are.” The grin was replaced by a sneer; which only served to send his heart into a frenzy. “I haven’t forgotten what you and you’re mutts did the last time we met. You’re coming with me, but don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

There was no more than a second between the man removing his hand, and a gag being forced into his mouth. There was no time to call out, to scream. The torch had been discarded in favour of dragging him out of bed; his head hit the edge of the bedside table hard. The searing pain made it nearly impossible to think. Human or not, there was no way he was letting this guy kidnap him without a fight. If he could hold off; if he could just break free...

He couldn’t breathe. He lay on the floor, hunched over, cradling his stomach. The hunter certainly didn’t hold back; he felt every bit of anger through that one punch. “Stay still.” With that, he found himself thrown over the man’s shoulder. The window. They were heading towards the window.

“Theo, what-?” Liam’s voice broke the deafening silence. The pain in his stomach and head made it difficult to open his eyes. Despite that, he knew the exact moment Liam saw the hunter. The low growl a clear threat. “Let him go!” He finally met Liam’s gaze; his undisguised fear a plea.

“I don’t think so.” Neither he nor Liam missed the smug satisfaction in those four words. The hunter believed he’d won. Without warning, he was thrown, _literally_ thrown out of the window. His shout at the fall, followed by a groan when he landed were muffled. Did these people not realise he was human? Although he doubts they would care if they did. He finally knew how Stiles felt every time he’d been hurt. Other than Scott, the Pack seemed to forget Stiles didn’t heal the same way they did. Let’s just say their games tend to get rough, and you don’t want to be on the bottom of it. It didn’t take long for another two hunters to appear from the shadows, dragging him away from Liam’s house.

Closer to the road, to a van parked along the curb. No amount of fighting helped; he couldn’t even succeed in delaying them. Within no more than a minute, he was inside the van, feet and hands bound. They had gone so far as to tie his arms behind his back, before securing the chains to those around his ankles. Breathe. Just breathe. Liam will stop them. Liam will free you.

The short crack reverberated from within the house. It brought forth a spine chilling realisation. He knew that sound. He’d heard it many times before, and it left him with a pit of dread in his stomach. A gunshot. _Liam._ No. He screamed. This time, the gag did little to silence him. It was still muted, but was well and truely heard. He struggled to see the window; to catch a glimpse of Liam. To know Liam was alive. There was no sign of life. Not the kind he was looking for. All he saw was the hunter climbing out and jumping in the van, before they sped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are y’all? 😁  
> Are you enjoying the story so far?


	5. Chapter 5

“Theo!”  
“Don’t worry. My partner will take good care of him.”  
He could feel the shift taking over. This was usually when he recited his mantra. The Sun, the Moon, the Truth. Ordinarily, it kept his anger at bay; during the times it didn’t work, he relied on Theo. He’d known for a while that they were anchors. He also knew Theo would never admit it. It was for that same reason, he knew his mantra would be pointless.

It wouldn’t work. Partly because a hunter broke into his house, (that was crossing the line), and partly, or largely, because they’d kidnapped Theo. He was sick of these people thinking they could do whatever they want. He was sick of being hunted; the Pack along with him, and simply because they were different. He would not be targeted in his own home.

Claws out, he lunged forward. He was prepared to take this man down, by any means necessary. Unfortunately, in his haste and by acting on impulse, he’d missed the gun. He had forgotten to even consider the possibility. It wasn’t until he heard the crack of the bullet once fired, and felt the searing pain in his left shoulder that he registered his mistake.

In that split second his concentration faltered, the hunter fleeing through the open window. Black lines were already coursing through his body; his arm covered, the wolfsbane was rapidly infusing his blood; contaminating it. None of that mattered. Not when he could hear Theo screaming. It was so clear, he nearly forgot Theo had been gagged. Leaning heavily to the right, he chanced a look into the street. He made it in time to see a black van speeding away; pulling the familiar scent with it. Theo was in that van.

“Liam!” He could hear his mum calling; he heard his dad’s rushed steps. “Are you okay? We heard gunshots.” He couldn’t speak. It felt like his throat had closed over. There was a tightness he couldn’t shake; a need to search, to keep looking until they found the hunters. The best he could do was turn and try to focus on his mum; he heard her gasp, but it sounded distant. “Liam, you’re bleeding!”  
Was he? His eyes landed on his blood soaked shirt.

It felt surreal; like he was watching it happen to someone else. As if he were a character in a movie. “They have Theo.” It was becoming harder to focus; harder to form a sentence. “The van-”  
A soft weight surfaced on his uninjured arm; gentle and comforting. “You’ve been shot, Liam. We have to heal you first. I promise we’ll find Theo as soon as your safe.” His dad eased him onto his bed; the same bed that now felt bare. Only moments ago, it had held a sleeping Theo. Now, it served as a makeshift hospital bed.

“Scott. You- you need Scott.” The room spun, his vision blurring with the motion. “Wolfsbane.” That was his last conscious thought; energy spent, he let the dark pull him under.

Stiff. Sore. Tired. Those were the first pieces of reality he understood. His entire body ached; a lingering burning still present within his shoulder. The bullet. He’d been poisoned. With more effort than he would have thought possible, he opened his eyes and met three matching stares. There was a mirrored concern encompassing the room; a little suffocating if he were honest.

He was still trying to regain his grasp of the previous events; searching for an answer as to what happened“Thank God, you’re okay.” His mum wrapped him in a tight hug. Truth be told, it was rather constricting, but he knew better than to voice that complaint. Even lacking the details, he understood something was wrong and his mum needed the contact. The reassurance. When she finally let go, he slowly pulled himself up until he was resting against the headboard of his bed.

“I’m fine, Mum.” He was. Apart from his hazy memory. Why was everything so hard to recall? The bullet must have contained a higher dose of wolfsbane than usual. It was the only explanation for how fast it spread and the effect it had. Scott and Stiles were here, he assumed to burn out the wolfsbane, but who shot him and why? What had he been doing at the time? He’d been checking on Theo. Just like that, the memories flooded in.

It was like a switch had been activated; the trigger he needed to open the floodgates.  
Hunters. A hunter had come and kidnapped-  
“Theo! The hunters-”  
“The Pack is out searching for him.” Scott’s reply came instantly. It was quickly followed by Stiles’ sarcasm. It was always sarcasm.  
“Seriously, a van? They couldn’t do better than a van? What is this? Cheesy villain night?”

It was agonisingly slow, but he did it. He pulled himself to the edge of the bed, sliding off as carefully as he could. A little further and he could stand up. That is, until his dad stepped across to block his way.  
“Where do you think you’re going?”  
“I need to find, Theo.”  
“That man just tried to kill you. You are not going anywhere near those people.”

  
If you asked him which of his parents was the easiest to understand, the easiest to reason with, his answer would nearly always be his dad. His mum has always been the one to worry; she had always been less willing to accept what truely terrified her. It wasn’t that she said no to everything; after all, she accepted the supernatural a lot sooner than he would have expected.

If it wasn’t a direct refusal, she found any reason as to why she didn’t want him to go. His dad, on the other hand, usually took his side and helped convince her that he would be fine. There were always rules involved, but they could reach a compromise together. It was rare that his dad was the one to say no, without any effort to talk about it. There was no point arguing when his dad would never change his mind. It was a lost cause. Not this time. This time it was too important. Theo’s life was at stake.

“Dad-”  
“I don’t want to hear it.”  
“If they did that to me, what do you think they’ll do to Theo? They _will_ kill him.”  
“Mrs Johnson next door called the police. Your mother and I have already spoken to Sheriff Stilinski. The police have been trained for situations like these. I won’t have you putting yourself in danger.”  
This was taking too long. Anything could have happened whilst they sat here fighting. “This is my fault. I was supposed to be looking after Theo, but I failed. They took him from our house; from my room. I have to find him. I have to make it right.”

“We can’t lose you. We _won’t_ lose you.”  
He hated that his parents were worried, but he couldn’t change that. No matter what the threat, or who was responsible, they would still worry about him. He understood that. He didn’t expect it to change. Nor was he trying to. What he did need, was for them to trust him. To let him handle this. “Would you sit here if they’d taken me?” It was harsh. If he’d had a choice... but it worked. His dad stepped back, watching him as he stood up.  
“Be careful.” He paused to hug his dad, then his mum. It was as much to reassure himself, as it was for his parents.

Once he climbed into Stiles’ Jeep, unable to do anything more than sit there, his thoughts took on a life of their own. Images of Theo hurt or worse cycled through his mind with no end in sight. From what Scott had told him, they had nothing. No one knew where the hunters had taken Theo. Malia and Parrish had ruled out the usual hideouts; Mason, Corey and Lydia had been looking around town but couldn’t find any sign of them. The police were on the lookout for the van, and he... had no idea where to start.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time the van stopped, he felt like he’d been thrown into a wall. Repeatedly. Turns out hunters aren’t the safest drivers when there’s an unrestrained human tied up in the back. Every turn they took, every pothole they crossed, made him crash into the locked doors. He had no idea how long they’d been travelling or where they were. There was nothing he could do to prevent them grabbing him; not when he was still bound. That didn’t mean he was prepared to sit back and do nothing. He refused to stay still; he wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Even as a child, you’re a nuisance.” A disgusted sneer preceded the sharp crack of his jaw. A throbbing ache spread viciously under his skin; broken bones were a lot worse when they didn’t heal instantly. Unfortunately, a broken bone was nothing compared to what the hunters would do. He didn’t want to know what they had planned. The hunter that had kidnapped him in the first place, literally dragged him across the ground. What felt like sticks and rocks cut at his skin; a sticky substance he thought to be mud had smeared his face and clothes. He was hauled sideways with no warning; his arms and legs crashing into the outstretched trees they passed.

How far were they taking him? With so many trees, they had to be somewhere in the Preserve, but that wasn’t a great help. The Preserve covered a large expanse of Beacon Hills, which meant they could be anywhere by now. A shack he had never seen before stood behind the remaining tree line. From the little he could see, it was rundown and abandoned.

Inside wasn’t much better. There were little furnishings within the small facade; no more than a metal table fitted with restraints in the back corner. A stockpile of guns stood beside a silver tray, lined with tools that could only result in torture. It was never pleasant, but he really didn’t want to experience it in his current state. Nor did he look forward to finding out how the hunters planned to use them. Not that he was given a choice in the matter. In no more than five minutes after entering the forlorn building, he was strapped to the aforementioned table. Within seconds of the gag being removed, he was screaming blue murder.

“Get off me! Let me go!”  
“Would you shut up? I didn’t realise what a brat you are.” Someone else might have cowered at the icy undertone; the repulsion clearer than ever. He, on the other hand, had nothing left to lose. It couldn’t get any worse; so, why not put up a fight?  
“Make me. You obviously haven’t done your research. Did you really expect me to play nice? I don’t do nice. Especially for the likes of you.”

“You want to talk? Fine. Let’s see how much you have to say once we begin the procedure.” It was never a good sign when the villain grinned. Despite his better judgement; despite years of hiding his emotions, he visibly paled. “What do you say we test your resilience and pain tolerance?”

Watching the hunter stand, he swallowed as tools were sorted. He had known this was coming, but it didn’t make it easier. Eyes glued to the man in front of him, the menacing grin etched into those cruel features, left him nauseated. It was futile to try to escape, but he had to try. He was terrified.

It started with small cuts. One here, one there. Each one was accompanied by a comment; each reminded him he was at their mercy. It progressed slowly; the hunter revelled in the torment inflicted. What had started small, soon turned vicious. It had been tolerable in the beginning; after everything he’d been through, a few cuts were nothing.

The problem was that was only the start. Each time, the method of torture changed. Each time, the pain increased. It went from a simple knife to a lit match, before being followed by a taser. Not once, not twice, but three times. In quick succession. His teeth clenched, his body seizing as electricity coursed through every muscle; every piece of flesh. His heart felt like it was going to burst.

It was then he was afforded a much needed, albeit brief break. Every part of his body ached; it hurt too much to move. How was he supposed to make it through more of this? It wasn’t going to get any easier. It wasn’t going to let up. His fears were confirmed, when the hunter returned holding a metal stoke. It wasn’t hard to see the metal was hot. It had likely been held in the fire which had been set up to stave off the cold.

That is, for his kidnappers. The fire was too far away to offer him any comfort, any warmth. The hunter studied him silently; that same grin from earlier surfacing. There wasn’t a trace of remorse or pity to be seen. Not that he was surprised. Before he knew what was happening, his shirt had been cut and stripped into shreds. Chest exposed, a suffocating chill clung to his bones. The stoke was held under careful inspection. “You’re mine.”

No. Not this. _Not this!_ He had to move. Why couldn’t he move?! An agonising scream tore through the room, followed by the scent of burning flesh.


	7. Chapter 7

“This is ridiculous!”  
“Liam, calm down.”  
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Scott! Theo’s out there, and we have no idea where the hunters are. It’s been an hour! They could have killed him!” It was somewhat surprising that he was this worked up. It’s not like he and Theo were overly close. He had, however, promised to protect Theo. A promise he had failed to keep. If anything happened, it would be his fault.  
“We’re doing everything we can, Liam.”  
“That means nothing if we can’t find him. Can’t Deaton do something?”  
Scott just looked at him with sympathy. “I’ve asked. Deaton said he’ll look into it, but so far, he’s not sure.”

Just once, he’d like to have some peace. No evil hunters. No attacks. No threats. Just a regular, daily life. No one else had to deal with this mess. All he asked is that he be allowed to enjoy himself for once. Was that really too much?  
“Malia and Parrish are searching the Preserve. Lydia, Mason and Corey are looking near the old Zoo.” Scott seemed so sure. A certainty that felt premature. “You, Stiles and I will check the outskirts of town. One of us will find them.”

It made sense. It was a good plan. A deep breath later, he felt some of the tension leave his body. It still took repeating ‘The Sun, The Moon, The Truth’ three times, before he finally felt his claws retract. He hadn’t realised he’d started to shift. Maybe he was a little more stressed than he thought. Scott seemed to visibly relax as well. Scott was right.

He was no use to anyone if he lashed out. He was no use to Theo if he couldn’t think straight. Guilt or not, he had to focus. It made the next hour slightly more bearable. Regular progress reports from the Pack earned no results. They had yet to find a sign of anyone in the Preserve, and the Zoo proved to be a waste of time. He had scanned every inch of land they passed; the further Stiles drove, the more hope became harder to hold onto.

They were almost at the town border, and the idea Theo had been taken beyond Beacon Hills, threatened to break what little composure he had left. If they’d passed the border, then Theo could literally be anywhere. He’d never considered that possibility. Maybe since it had never been an issue before. They had spent so much time searching here, and Theo may never have been there.

What if this whole time... He was holding back by sheer force, but it wouldn’t last much longer. He could feel his control fraying; the final thread was about to give. He needed something. _Anything_.

A faint scent caught his attention. The open window, (he’d been too afraid too miss something), stirred up a familiarity.  
“Stop the car!”  
Stiles slammed the brakes, tires screeching. “What the heck-!”  
The words trailed off into the distance. He was out and running as soon as the door was open. Theo had been here. He had been here and it was the first step to finding the hunters.

It didn’t take long to locate the van. It was hidden within a patch of trees, the growth covering its sides. From there, marks could be seen within the dirt. Someone had been dragged from the van. It led to a small shack. Theo’s scent was stronger than ever, and he could hear the frantic heartbeat behind those walls. Scott was calling but he didn’t wait. Not when he was this close. It took all of a second to tear the doors down; on the other side, he was met with shock and disgruntled stares. All he saw was Theo. Strapped to a table. Shaking.  
  
Tools lay on a tray to the side; they were organised meticulously, and from the position, it appeared the hunter had been preparing to operate. Theo locked eyes with his, and the look of undisguised panic made part of him snap. A growl escaped, and he launched at the ‘men’. He used the word loosely; they were monsters. They were the ones who should be hunted. Seconds. That’s how long it took him to take them down. He’d knocked one out before they could blink; the second cocked his gun, but fell before firing a shot. Now, for the last one.

The man pulled a knife, and in one move, pressed it to Theo’s neck. “I’ll kill him.”  
“Liam!” Scott burst in, with Stiles right behind, and the man shifted his gaze. That was all he needed. One slip in attention. One second of misplaced focus, and he was on the man. The knife fell to the floor, his hand around the hunter’s neck. The warm trickle of blood coated his fingers; it would be so easy to dig in, to apply a little pressure. “Liam, stop!”

“He deserves it!” His anger had taken over. It was coursing through his veins, driving him to attack. “It’s not the first time he’s come after us, and it won’t be the last.”  
Stiles stepped forward, placing a hand cautiously on his shoulder. “Liam, I agree. This monster doesn’t deserve anything from us, but look at Theo. We need to get him out of here.”

As soon as he let his eyes drift to the table, to Theo, he calmed. There was a vulnerability he had never seen before. Theo wasn’t one to open up, instead choosing to hide his emotions. It had always been that way, and yet, here they were. A desperate plea for help lay visible; there for the world to see. That was the only reason he let go. That was the only reason he didn’t kill the guy. That didn’t mean he didn’t punch him. The Sheriff could take care of them, but he wasn’t about to let one get away. If he broke the guy’s nose in the process, even better.

As soon as the restraints were off, Theo sagged against him. Standing on his own was out of the question. The torture Theo had been put through, had sapped all of his strength. In the end, Scott had to help. With one on either side of Theo, they made it back to the Jeep. It wasn’t easy getting in; what with trying to both push and carry Theo through the door. Looking at the way Theo slouched, somewhat at ease in the seats, the extent of his injuries were obvious.

Worse than he had realised. It wasn’t something they could fix. Not alone. It wasn’t something that would heal on its own. Placing a hand over Theo’s, he watched the pain fade; muscles loosening, heartbeat slowing. It was then that Theo passed out. It was then he knew.

They needed help.  
They needed Melissa.


	8. Chapter 8

Light filtered through his closed eyes; fragments of conversations made it through the haze.  
 _“...get him in...”_  
 _“Open...”_  
 _“Now, Doctor!”_

It hurt to breathe. His body ached. He felt a hard, flat surface underneath him. There were hands on his arms, trailing under his shirt. Something sharp pricked the skin of his arm. Where was he? What was happening? Slowly opening his eyes, everything was shrouded in fog. It took a moment to fight through the blurry edge to his vision and refocus. When he did, the first thing he saw clearly was the tools laid out on a shelf. Tools he’d seen recently; tools he knew all too well.

He was still there. The hunters. They were going to experiment. Breathing hitched, he thrashed in their hold. He wouldn’t go through that again. He couldn’t.  
 _“...Theo!”_  
He had to break free.  
 _“Theo!”_  
He had to.  
 _“...Get me...”_

There were more. More hunters holding him down. More hunters cutting into him. He felt something prick his arm again; _a needle_. It didn’t take long to realise what it was. He was already feeling lighter, tired. _Sedation_. They had sedated him. His body felt heavier, weighted. It became increasingly difficult to move, to fight. Then came his eyes. It was impossible to keep them open. If he gave in to the effects, if he let the drugs pull him under, there was no telling what these people would do.

If only he could stay awake.  
The last thing he saw before falling into darkness, was someone staring back at him.

When he regained consciousness, he was alone. It was an effort to look around; his back protesting the slightest movement. The room he was in was different. It wasn’t rundown. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t the cabin. This room had white walls, heating and a bed. It had monitors and tubes. Some of which were attached to his arm. A hospital. He was in a hospital. The memories came flooding back. Liam. Scott. They’d saved him.

A deep breath escaped him; the relief was overwhelming. There had been a moment where he thought that was it. Where he thought he was going to die. Who would think he’d be grateful for a hospital bed? It’s not exactly comfortable. Usually people would do anything to avoid winding up in a room here, but he couldn’t think of a better place to be right now. Other than maybe Liam’s. The door opened, and as much as he hated it, he flinched.

It was Liam.  
It was only Liam.

“You’re awake.”  
“Nice observation, Dunbar.”  
“You look terrible.”  
“Your bedside manner needs work.” He spoke dryly. For someone whose stepdad was a doctor, Liam’s etiquette was questionable. It wasn’t until Liam sat in the chair beside him, that he spoke again. “Why are you here, Liam?”

“To see how you are, obviously.”  
There it was. The inevitable question. He’d known it was coming, but that didn’t make hearing it any better. It was hard to ignore where they were; especially when people kept reminding you. “I’m fine.”  
“Theo-”  
“I said I’m fine.”  
“Theo, what you went through-”  
“I don’t want to talk about it! It’s over. I’m not a victim, and I _don’t_ need you to hold my hand!” A little torture and you’re suddenly fragile. It’s like Liam thought he would break. Well, he wouldn’t. He’d been through this before, and he’d do it again.

“You don’t have to pretend-”  
“I’m not pretending, Liam! What part of _I’m fine_ , don’t you understand?!”  
Liam actually looked offended. Like he was in the wrong. “I don’t know why I bothered.” The door slammed shut, leaving the room eerily quiet.

It wasn’t that bad. He’d heal and he could get out of here. Somewhere he wouldn’t be under constant watch. The day passed slowly. Nurses came and went, a doctor monitored his injuries and Melissa stopped by during her shift. It was more than a little weird. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms, what with killing Scott and all. It was more than a little surprising that she was here at all. That she was offering to help heal him. Lydia visited that afternoon, dragging a clearly reluctant Stiles behind her.

“What’s wrong, Stiles? Don’t want to say hello?” The look on Stiles’ face was priceless. Why was it so fun to mess with Stiles? Maybe the day wasn’t all bad, after all.  
“I’d rather say hello to Peter.”  
Scott was the next to arrive. It was almost like a procession; someone was always there. Wait. _Someone was always there_. They were watching him. Still. Just like that, he felt his anger, his frustration return. Almost like it had never left. As if it wasn’t bad enough he was currently trapped in the body of a defenceless human boy. No. No, he had to be reminded of how weak he was.

“Go away, Scott.”  
“Theo, I’m only here to help.”  
It was sincere. Which only made it worse. “Why?! You never cared before! You’ve spent more time with me in the last 24 hours, than you have since I came back. I don’t need your pity.”  
“It’s not like that-”  
“Go! I don’t want you here! Any of you! Just leave me alone!” At first, he thought Scott was going to refuse. To fight. And truth be told, had Melissa not walked in, Scott would have. Apparently, they were causing a scene. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t want any visitors. He made that very clear.

It took almost two weeks to be given the all clear. Two weeks spent in bed and being checked on by nurses. He wasn’t keen on the gown they made him wear, but he begrudgingly accepted. At least no one outside of the hospital staff would ever see him wear it. It had started well; a nice break from life. A break from his problems. It however, quickly proved to be more work than he’d realised.

Every few hours, a nurse came in to check his chart and monitor his vitals. It was one test after another. Even now, he couldn’t be left alone. Then came the needles. Almost every day. He may as well be a human pin cushion. That said, he wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t revenge for his past mistakes.  
By the time Melissa said he could leave, he wanted to run.

It was that morning while he was changing, that he heard the door to his room open. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Not when he’d already been discharged. Exiting the bathroom, he barely suppressed a groan. There on the hospital bed, was Liam.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I’ll give you a lift home.” It was said with such innocence, such normality. Like this was nothing out of the ordinary.  
“You can’t be serious.”

“You’re not staying by yourself. Not after what just happened.”  
“I’ll find my own way back, then.”  
“How many times do I have to say it? You’re not going anywhere without protection. That’s not going to change, so stop fighting.” Liam was infuriating.

“I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you. I can take care of myself.” All he needed was his phone and he could go. The same phone which was currently sitting beside Liam. Was it really worth it? Maybe he could do without it. It was nearly dead anyway. It would mean he could distance himself from the McCall Pack. They couldn’t find him, if they couldn’t call him. Not straight away at least. It would give him a head start. A chance to leave Beacon Hills once and for all.

“I didn’t think you were this dense. It’s _not pity_. We’re protecting you from a threat. That’s it. We would do the same no matter who it was.”  
He didn’t have the energy to argue, which was why he ended up following Liam to his truck. The fact Liam had taken it upon himself to drive it freely, infuriated him. It was his. Child or not, that hadn’t changed.

Was nothing sacred?


	9. Chapter 9

He thought Theo might like some company. That it might make being in hospital easier. That was his first mistake. His second mistake was thinking he could have a civil conversation with the man. Within a day, they had been kicked out and banned from visiting. That’s fine. If Theo wanted to be alone and sulk, who was he to say no? His parents however, weren’t so easily persuaded. He’d spent the first week being hounded about how he shouldn’t leave Theo by himself. That he should be there for Theo after such a traumatic experience. Like it was his fault he had been explicitly told to piss off. It wasn’t until nearly two weeks later that Scott said Theo was being discharged. Grabbing the keys to the truck, he made his way to Beacon Hills Memorial. There was no doubt in his mind that Theo intended to leave the second someone gave the okay. It wouldn’t matter if that meant leaving by himself. He, for one, wasn’t about to let that happen.  
Theo could complain as much as he liked, he wasn’t going to change his mind. Especially when you considered why they were in this situation in the first place. Theo wouldn’t think twice about putting himself in danger. Partly because he wasn’t used to being so susceptible to injury; partly because it was who Theo was. He was proved right the moment he entered Theo’s room. It had been an instant fight; good thing he was prepared. To be honest, he’d expected it to take longer. Theo seemed too tired to persist, instead relenting and leading the way; it wasn’t pleasant by any means. The tension could be cut with a knife. The drive home was the most uncomfortable he’d been in a long time. The two times he’d tried to start a conversation fell flat. Theo’s gaze remained fixed on the window the entire time, and he finally decided it was probably better to leave it alone. The last thing he needed was a pissed off Theo. He did, after all, have to live with him for the foreseeable future.  
The sooner they broke this curse, the better.

The minute they got home, they were bombarded. His parents were on them before they even stepped foot through the front door. “Oh my- Theo! Are you okay?!” Mum could be quite intimidating, especially when she was so close. She was practically standing in Theo’s face. There, in that moment, a look of pure desperation flashed across Theo’s face. Despite the usual calm, collected attitude Theo exuded, this was clearly too much. Which was understandable. He would be the same had it been him. Right now, it looked like Theo might run. He had never seen Theo this uncomfortable before. His mum seemed to notice as well, given the way she stepped back and waved them inside. It might have been the only time she had let something go unsaid. His room was colder than he remembered; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Theo shiver. A reflex which led to Theo collapsing. There was no trace of the Chimera they had come to know. There, huddled against the door, was a boy overcome by fear.  
“Theo.”  
“I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything.” The look in Theo’s eyes, the raw pain... It hurt to see. Theo had always been impenetrable. Nothing seemed to faze him. Now, here he was, his thoughts laid bear. “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To be unable to defend yourself? Do you know what it’s like to go from being an engineered killer to being the victim? To go from having an enhanced sense of self-preservation to being defenceless?”

He couldn’t begin to imagine how bad that would be. He didn’t know how Theo felt, and there was no way to know unless Theo decided to open up. This was already more than he had expected to hear. “No. I don’t.”  
“It’s terrifying.” A mere whisper.  
He knew he should do something. Theo needed support; needed to feel safe. He was the only one who could offer that solace, but how? How do you comfort someone who has always been so self-assured? Someone who fights back and snaps at any sign of weakness? It didn’t seem like anything he could say would help. It would probably only make it worse. Mason appreciated words; Corey appreciated optimism. Theo definitely wasn’t the type of person to be coddled. It would almost certainly result in Theo pulling away. Which was the opposite of what he wanted. So instead, he simply sat beside him. Neither of them said anything; simply drawing comfort from one another’s presence.


	10. Chapter 10

He hated this. _Hated_. Liam wouldn’t stop looking at him as if he were about to break. One moment of weakness, and he was the latest pet project. He didn’t need fixing. He didn’t need a carer. All he needed was a moment alone. A chance to breathe. It was suffocating; everywhere he looked, Liam was there. Who cared _why_ Liam was doing this? He had never asked to be protected. He didn’t want it. Sure, there was a time where the company had sounded nice. A time where he was at his lowest. Where _anything_ would have been better than spending another night there. The ghost of a cold breeze surfaced. It didn’t go unnoticed by Liam when he shivered. There was no reason to, considering it was a warm afternoon. He however, had no intention of offering up an explanation. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this. Ever since the hospital, he had been on red alert. He may as well be on house arrest. As it was, he barely left the house and only when deemed a necessity. Twenty-three. He was _twenty-three_. Cursed or not, his real age hadn’t changed. He didn’t want people knowing everything he did. Was a little privacy too much to ask? If Liam didn’t stop watching him every second, he was going to scream.   
It was becoming increasingly hard to avoid thinking about that night. Images surfaced when he closed his eyes. The memory fought to be remembered, to be seen. There were times he thought it would never end. When he couldn’t breathe. When it all became too much. Luckily, none of those had been when Liam was in the room. That wasn’t to say it had gone unnoticed. He was still living with a werewolf, after all. If Liam were paying attention, it would have been impossible to miss his rapid heartbeat. His chemosignals a dead give away. If Liam _had_ , in fact, noticed, it went unspoken. If true, it was greatly appreciated. That didn’t change the fact he hadn’t had a moment to himself in weeks. It had been decided for him, that he would stay with one of the Pack until they had found a way to fix this. Between Liam and the Pack, he had been passed around more than he’d thought possible.  
Who he stayed with varied depending on their university schedules. For the most part, it was either Liam or Scott. Both of whom occasionally missed lectures when their schedules clashed. Unfortunately, as was bound to happen, there was a day where both had lectures neither could miss. The rest of the Pack were also unable to take the day off to stay with him. All but one. Malia.  
“No. Not happening.”  
“Theo, we don’t have a choice.” He felt like punching Liam. This had to be the worst idea Liam had ever had.  
“I am _not_ staying with Malia.”  
“There’s no one else who can do it, and don’t bother saying you’ll wait here. The answer is still no.”  
“It’s Malia!”  
“I know you two don’t exactly get along-”  
“That’s an understatement.”  
“-that’s why we tried to avoid this-”  
“Then don’t stop now.”  
“-but it’s the only choice we have.”  
“You can’t be serious! Liam, think about this. You’re talking about leaving me with _Malia_. The one person who hates me even more than Stiles does. You _saw_ how she looked at me when she found out I was human. Do you really expect her to play nice?!”

To Liam’s credit, there was a moment of doubt. A moment in which he thought Liam might reconsider. That slight hope shattered when Liam spoke. “I’m sorry, Theo. There really is no other way. Scott will make her promise not to hurt you.”  
“Oh because that makes it all better. Malia wouldn’t dare go against Scott. Tell me, how many times did Stiles need to remind Malia they don’t kill? She’ll do whatever she wants. No matter what you say.” He was so over this. Malia could do more than _hurt_ him, and yet he was still expected to go. He didn’t want to hear Liam’s reply. “Just get it over with.”  
Without waiting, he walked out. Liam could meet him in his truck. He may have to go, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Nor was he going to be acceptive. The drive was long, and despite Liam’s ‘reassurances’ that ‘everything would be alright’, he couldn’t help the pit growing in his stomach. There was no way this would go well.  
The one positive was that Malia was possibly less thrilled than he was. At least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want this. It was however, a double-edged sword. Malia didn’t want him here and she was bound to take that out on him. The narrowed glare aimed his way pointed to the many ways she could kill him without lifting a finger. He really hated Liam sometimes. Malia may be dating Scott, but that didn’t mean she’d think twice about attacking him. That same dread he’d felt in his truck, was worse now he was actually here. Liam left a few minutes ago, and he was officially alone with someone who wanted him dead.

“I don’t want you here.”  
Direct as always. “That makes two of us.”  
“Don’t talk and stay out of my way.” Malia stormed off without waiting for an answer. It wasn’t a request; it was an order. He was supposed to wait for Scott to pick him up, even though that wouldn’t be until 5 o’clock. It was only 10:00. Seven hours. _Seven hours_ until he could leave. At first he tried to do as he was told. He tried to be quiet; to be invisible. He tried, but an hour in and he was bored. It couldn’t hurt to look around a little. He’d just skim the items around the room; gain a little more insight into the girl. He ran his hand over the DVD’s on a shelf. All action. All fighting themed. Shocking. Moving on, he made his way to a drawer. Opening it, he saw a glimpse of what might be a doll. Before he could go any further, the drawer was slammed shut and he felt his back crash into the wall. He winced. He would never get used to this. To the pain. It didn’t fade like it had for years. Instead, a throbbing ache rose through his back. The collision winded him.  
“I thought I told you not to touch anything.” Malia was livid.  
“You told me not to talk and I didn’t. I wasn’t in your way. I was simply looking.”  
“Don’t touch my stuff.”  
It was a clear warning. One he was no longer in the mood to listen to. “What’s wrong, Malia? Something to hide?” He ignored the growl. He ignored her glowing eyes. If he had to suffer though this, then Malia could join him. “The doll looked a little ratty. I think it’s time for a new one.” The next growl he heard was menacingly low. Her claws had extended, fangs lowered. Maybe he’d gone too far. It was just a doll. Why was she so worked up? Oh, shit. “It was your sister’s.” He flinched as her hand came down beside his face; claws embedded in the plaster. “Malia-” A hiss passed his lips as her claws tore through the skin over his shoulder. Five puncture marks surfaced beneath her claws where she pressed threateningly hard. “Malia, stop.” She didn’t move. She didn’t let go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He never would have teased her if he had. Not now. Not when he knew how much family meant to Malia. Not after everything he’d been through with Tara.  
Finally, she withdrew her claws, now covered in blood. A small amount of blood seeped through his shirt, now that the cuts were unhindered. It stung, but it could have been far worse. If Malia hadn’t let go, if she pushed any deeper... Thankfully, it appeared to be mostly shallow. She hadn’t cut any major arteries. The relief was short lived. Before he knew what was happening, Malia had dragged him from the wall to a chair on the other side of the room.  
“What are doing?” She forced him to sit down; refusing to speak. “Would you stop pushing me? I’d rather not have you break a bone.” Still, he received no response. He watched as Malia pulled something out from under her bed. Something he didn’t like at all. Not to mention, he didn’t want to know why she had it there in the first place. “No. No!” It was useless. She was too strong.

Five and a half hours later, there was a knock on the front door downstairs. Malia left to answer it. All he could do was wait. He heard footsteps as they reached the second floor. Closer. Closer. They reached the door. This was it. At least it was only Scott. As the door opened, he closed his eyes in frustration. The world hated him. It was the only explanation for who walked in. Standing bedside Scott, a wide grin fixed in place, was Stiles. It just *had* to be Stiles.  
“Malia, we’ve talked about this.” Of course Scott had spoken about this with her. That explained the rope. “You can’t tie people up.” Not only was he tied to a chair, he was also gagged. It was embarrassing. “Did you attack him?” He could hear the shock in Scott’s voice. No one had expected this. No one other than him.  
“He’s lucky that’s all I did.”  
Scott moved closer; shaking his head and preparing to untie him. For that, he was thankful. He just wanted to get out of here.  
“Can’t we leave him for a while? The silent look suits Theo.” His glare did nothing to sway Stiles. He just kept talking. As always. “Just let me take one photo.” At that, he groaned. This was just what he needed. Photographic proof. In the hands of the person who’s apparently made it his life mission to torment him, no less. There was no telling what Stiles would do with that much power over him. To his immense relief, Scott stood in front of him as Stiles pulled out a phone, effectively blocking Stiles’ view.  
“This isn’t a joke, Stiles.”  
“Scott-”  
“No.”  
He had never been so grateful for Scott’s morality. It was the only reason he could hold onto a shred of his dignity. Stiles grumbled about how ‘this is so unfair’ and that he ‘deserved a little discomfort’, as Scott finished freeing him. It felt so good to pull that gag out of his mouth however, it was overshadowed by the reminder he wasn’t trusted. That Stiles still thought he’d deserved to be sent to hell.  
Of course, Stiles couldn’t stay quiet for long. “What he did he do?”  
“I didn’t do anything.” This was not his fault.  
“I warned you not to annoy me.” Malia cut in.  
“It’s not my fault you’re so sensitive.” This was ridiculous. He took a sharp step back as Malia lunged at him; only stopping when Scott grabbed her arm. “I told you I didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what?” Stiles had to fuel this mess. They couldn’t just move on.  
“Kiley’s toy baby.” Malia spoke through clenched teeth.  
“You did not break that doll?” Stiles was now furious.  
“Of course not!”  
“Then you mocked Malia for it.” The surety in Stiles’ voice temporarily rendered him speechless. “What is your problem, Theo?! Her sister died! Have you no decency?!”  
“I didn’t know it was her sister’s!”  
“Can I tie him up again?” The threat in Malia’s voice was unmistakable. Stiles’ emotionless ‘yes’ was a shock. Sure, they didn’t meet eye to eye, and Stiles’s opinion of him was less than favourable, but to so callously agree to his torment... He all but stumbled in his haste to get away, as Malia lunged at him once more. This time she’d grabbed hold of his shirt, before Scott could stop her. His heart was beating rapidly, praying Scott could talk Malia down. Unlike the first time however, it wasn’t easy. She argued with Scott, refusing to let him go. It took a while before Malia finally, albeit reluctantly, released him.  
He fell, hitting the floor hard. It took a moment for him to catch his breath.  
“Get out.” Malia snapped.  
She didn’t have to tell him twice. The last thing he wanted, was to stay here any longer. He was out of the room and downstairs before anyone could speak. He’d wait for them outside. This was the last time he listened to Liam.


	11. Chapter 11

“How was I to know she’d do that?!”  
“I told you, Liam! I _told_ you, Malia would do something! You were too arrogant to listen to me, though! You were sure Malia wouldn’t disobey Scott. She’d never dream of doing something that went against your precious Pack morals.” They’d been having this argument since he arrived home. Scott had dropped Theo off at his house with his parents, until he finished his last lecture. Not that he’d waited. It had taken twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes for him to run home after receiving Scott’s text. At seeing the holes in Theo’s shirt, he’d been worried Malia had hurt him. That is more than the cuts she’d left. Even then, he was furious. Malia knew Theo couldn’t defend himself and she took advantage of that. Finding out what she had done, that she had tied Theo up, left him fuming.  
She’d had no right. No matter what Theo said, Malia didn’t have the right to assault him. Theo was human. She could have seriously injured him or worse, she could have killed him. Yet somehow, despite all of that, Theo still blamed him. Like this was his fault. “I didn’t think Malia would-”  
“You never think, Liam! That’s the problem! I _told_ you this would happen! Why can’t you ever listen to me?!”  
Theo was right. He hadn’t listened. Mostly because he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to believe that Malia would still do that. That she would let her anger get the better of her. He wanted to believe she could control it, like he had learned to do with his own anger. He wanted to believe he could trust her to look after Theo, the same way he trusted her to protect him and the rest of the Pack.  
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t want to hear what you had to say. I didn’t want to hear it because it went against what I wanted to believe.” Theo seemed to relax slightly at that; the tension in his body fading. “It won’t happen again. If our schedules clash, we’ll figure something out. I promise. This is the last time we’ll leave you with Malia.” Theo’s breathing continued to slow; shoulders sagging as the last threads of anger seeped away. It was a visible weight off Theo’s shoulders.

The rest of the day, he tried to give Theo some space. It felt strange to be away from the other boy. After spending so much time together, it seemed natural. It had to be this way though. Theo needed time to come to terms with what happened. Time to forgive him. Time to himself. He had to respect that. He knew what it was like being tied up. Scott had apologised at the time, but it was still an unpleasant memory. One he tried not to dwell on. He understood how hard it was to forget. Particularly for Theo. Theo wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. This guarded. Not physically at least. It would have been terrible and confronting to be in such a situation. Being under constant watch must have been suffocating. He should have realised sooner.   
There wasn’t a lot he could do to help. Especially considering he had been partly responsible for allowing it to happen in the first place. After all, Malia never would have done that if he hadn’t insisted on her watching Theo. What he could do, was offer Theo some dignity. That was what Theo clung to the most and it had been taken from him. It was bad enough that Scott and Stiles had seen Theo like that. The only thing that could make it worse was to be reminded of it. Which was why he would pretend like nothing was different. It would be like it had never happened. Scott would ensure Stiles kept quiet on the matter as well. Theo didn’t need to be subjected to Stiles’ warped sense of humour. Although Theo didn’t say anything, he could tell the gesture was appreciated. It was a much needed escape. If he could make it easier for Theo, then that’s all he needed.


	12. Chapter 12

Who would have thought he’d be comfortable at Liam’s? More than usual. No one had brought up that night at Malia’s. Not Liam. Not Scott. He avoided Malia as much as possible. He didn’t want to risk angering her anymore than he already had. Even Stiles had remained silent. Though it certainly wasn’t by choice. The looks he received spoke clearly of the unspoken words Stiles wanted to say, but that was better than having them voiced. There was no doubt that Liam and Scott were responsible for that, and he couldn’t be more grateful. That was the problem. He was getting used to this. To being here. It was one of the main reasons he lashed out so often. Having someone watching out for him had never been a factor. It always felt unattainable. Now, here he was, with the Pack’s support (mostly). It had caused him to become complacent. He was getting used to the warm feeling; the feeling of being welcome. The comfort. The company. The security, believe it or not. He almost wanted to stay. _Almost_. It was better than what he had to go back to. Which wasn’t saying much. Leaving was going to be difficult.  
In the meantime, having been given some time to himself (within another room anyway), he was still under lock and key. Wherever Liam went, he was forced to tag along. It was slightly less stifling but no less annoying. Where was he expected to go this time, you may ask? A party. That’s right. A _party_ , and who thought that would be a good idea? You guessed it. Stiles. Never mind this was probably the worst time for such a thing, but hey, why not? It’s not like their in a hurry or anything. It’s not like he had any other plans. Breaking the curse could wait. Then again, maybe that’s why. Maybe Stiles wanted to mess with him; to prolong his suffering. He wouldn’t put it past the guy. Stiles still hadn’t forgiven him for teasing Malia. Neither believed he hadn’t known and that it wasn’t intentional. Neither believed he wouldn’t have done it had he been aware. It was possibly the last thing he wanted to do and yet, Liam wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d tried. Trust me. No amount of reasoning would suffice either. According to Liam, there was no chance of him sitting it out. Why? Because he wasn’t staying here on his own. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t be alone, seeing as Jenna and David were here. Not that Liam appreciated the reminder. You’d think he’d proposed using them as bait.  
“I’m not asking mum and dad to-”  
“To what?! Babysit me?! Just say it!”  
“Theo, you’re going. Stop complaining.”  
That was never going to happen. He had no intention of going at all, let alone willingly. No matter what Liam said. That is, until Liam threatened to physically drag him there. The last thing he needed was to be belittled more than he already had. It was all too possible, and although he thought he saw a moment of hesitation, he didn’t doubt that Liam would.

So there he was, in Stiles’ apartment of all places. Which he’d also like to point out, was the first time he’d been allowed to step foot inside. An invitation had seemed impossible yesterday. He hadn’t been accepted by Stiles since he returned to Beacon Hills. Though he had to admit, the small space was a true testament to the boy. Star Wars posters filled every wall; the room exuding Sheriff Stilinski’s touch. Despite seeing Stiles’ childhood lounge-room only once since they were children, the brief glimpse from the front door looked the same as what he saw now. There were also parts that spoke to Stiles’ erratic train of thoughts, the constant new threads that arose. The most prominent being the strings pinned to every wall in the adjoining room. Through the wide doorway, he could see an array of red string overlapping the expanse. Photos, maps, newspaper articles and letters lined the walls under each pin. It must have been Stiles’ office. The FBI seemed to be keeping Stiles busy.

“You still remember what a party is, right?” Speaking of the host. “I’ll give you a hint. It doesn’t involve standing awkwardly by yourself.”  
Someone needed to invent a remote for people. One button. Mute. Press it and instant relief. No more rants. No more rude, sarcastic comments. No more ill-thought out insults. “Charming as ever, I see.”  
“Look, if you’re going to be here, you may as well as join in. Your brooding is bringing everyone down.”  
“This wasn’t my idea.”  
“No, it was Liam’s. That and the fact you got yourself cursed.”  
“That was not my fault.” He was sick and tired of being blamed.  
“Right, it was the mystery invisible man who picked a fight with a witch.” Stiles was lucky he didn’t have his powers. If he had, Stiles wouldn’t be standing.  
“I’m not here because I want to be. Let’s make that perfectly clear.” If he was forced to put up with being harassed, then he wasn’t going to make it easy for them. He would not have anyone thinking this was voluntary.  
“Like anyone can make you do anything.” His silence was telling. “Wait, you’re serious?”  
Why was this his life? “Deadly. So, if you’ll excuse me...” He didn’t even make it two steps before Stiles cut him off.  
“It was Liam, wasn’t it? No one else could have pulled this off.” Was he really that predictable? He looked away, trying to hide his unease. “What is it? What does Liam have on you?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Oh no, there’s something. You don’t just agree. Not if it’s against your will.”  
There was no way this ended well. Not when Stiles had the attention of a hawk. Once something caught his interest, that was it. Nothing could break that precision based focus. Stiles wouldn’t let this go until he had an answer.  
The real answer.  
Which was why he left to go find something to do, this time unhindered. The smug “this isn’t over, Raeken!” echoing through his mind.

There was a headache forming, a tightness in his chest that could only mean one thing. A panic attack. He couldn’t think of a worst place to have one. The idea of Liam seeing was bad enough, but the entire Pack? There was no coming back from that. The bathroom. If he could make it to the safety of those locked doors, maybe he could hold it off. Maybe he could get it under control.  
No one seemed to notice as he weaved through, ducking quickly around the corner. It took all of his strength to push himself to keep going, keep walking. He barely managed to turn the lock with stiff, shaky hands. Breathe. Just breathe. It’s fine. You can get through this. You can beat this.  
“Theo?” Shit. Liam. Why was it always Liam? “Are you alright?”  
“I’m fine.” He really wished it wasn’t as chocked as it sounded.  
“Theo, open the door.”  
“Go away.” Breathe. Just breathe.  
“I’m not going anywhere, until you open the door.”  
“Liam!” He groaned. This wasn’t helping. The pain was spreading. He could barely feel his arms, his legs caving under the pressure. He cursed silently when he heard the bin fall with a crash. He just had to knock it.  
“That’s it. I’m coming in.”  
“No.” He couldn’t be seen like this. “Just give me a minute.” When he wasn’t faced with Liam barging in, he took a deep breath. Finally, he felt the pressure subside. Once he could confidently stand up, he unlocked the door.

“What-”  
“I’m fine.” Liam’s questions would only threaten to send him over the edge again. “I told you.”  
“You don’t look fine. You look like you saw a ghost.”  
“If you must know, I thought I was going to be sick. Do you mind?” Without waiting for an answer, he pushed past into the hallway. “I’m leaving.” It wasn’t a lie. It was more than he wanted to share, but it was better than the alternative. He ignored the stares he received from Scott and the others. Including Stiles. Stiles who was now more curious than ever to know the truth. Could the day get any worse?


	13. Chapter 13

“I’m done!”  
“Theo, stop.”  
“You want to be a college student? Go ahead. Do whatever you want. Go back to your party. I’ll fix this myself.” He always had. He had never needed anyone else, and he wasn’t about to start now.  
“Would you slow down?”  
“I’m not interested, Liam, I don’t care if everyone wanted a break. I don’t care they thought it was a good idea. All I care about is finding that witch and making her turn me back.”  
“How exactly do you plan on doing that?”  
“I’ll figure something out. Obviously no one else cares enough to do anything.”

At that, Liam grabbed him and forced him to stop. Thrown backwards, his back hit the brick wall. It knocked the air from his lungs, a hand holding him in place. “We have tried _everything_ we can think of. No one has given up. This party you hate so much was supposed to give us a chance to rest, so we could start again with fresh eyes. I never said we stopped looking. Deaton is searching for a solution as we speak.”  
That was not what he’d expected to hear. He’d never imagined they would devote this much time to something designed to benefit him. How was he supposed to respond to that?  
“Stiles-”  
“Stiles is the exception. He and Malia. I don’t care what they say. We are not letting this go, until we break the curse.”  
“I-” He didn’t know what to say. He’d known Stiles and Malia couldn’t care less about what happened to him. Stiles would probably cheer if he was stuck like this. He didn’t want to know what Malia would do were that the case. It was fair to say she would make his life miserable.  
“Come on. Let’s go home.”

He followed Liam unable to form an audible word. It was quiet when they arrived. Jenna and David must have gone out. Liam left him alone; which despite craving it earlier, now left him with an odd emptiness. It was still early. In fact, it was barely dark out but that didn’t change the exhaustion that had set in. He was asleep the second he laid down. By the time he woke up, his room was shrouded in darkness. Midnight, according to the clock.  
It suddenly felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Constricting. Confined. Trapped. He was suddenly back in the morgue.  
Light.  
He needed light.  
The switch had never appeared so far away. The blanket tangled around his foot in his haste, sending him crashing to the ground. It twisted further with every kick, every panicked movement. Binding him within its grasp. Holding him prisoner. Rendering him powerless.  
“No. No!” A bright light lit the space around him. Hands were on him, holding him down. “Get off me! Get off!”  
“Theo, it’s me!” Liam? “Stop moving.”  
For a reason unknown to him, he did. He laid there as Liam unwrapped the blanket, slowly freeing him. A chill ran through his chest at the brief touch of fingers breaking through the material. The air was cold, sending a shiver through him. Not wearing a shirt to bed proved to be a mistake, as his chest was now visible and directly in Liam’s line of sight. More specifically, the imprint seared into his skin.

Confusion and shock were evident in the fixed stare he received. Liam looked up, a question in his eyes before the words were spoken.  
“It hasn’t healed?”  
“The perks of being human.” So what if he was bitter? It was called for. He pulled a shirt on quickly.  
“I didn’t think it would scar.”  
Of course not. They weren’t used to dealing with this. It didn’t matter that most of them had once lived with the awareness of their fragility. The need for safety. It came with the territory. It had however, been years since any of them had been concerned with scars or non-life threatening injuries.  
“Just my luck.” Of course he would be the one to have this happen. Why not? It’s not like anything has ever gone his way. A heart defect as a child, the Dread Doctors... Tara. And now this.  
“It’s not that bad.” That caused him to turn away. He didn’t need to be told how to feel. He’d rather not feel at all. “I get it’s not pleasant, but it’s far from the worst you’ve had.” Liam didn’t understand. It was more than that. It was a reminder. “Theo, it’s just a scar.”  
That was the final straw. Just because Liam didn’t know, didn’t give him the right to judge. “ _Just a scar?!_ It is _not_ just a scar, Liam! It’s not about the mark. It’s not about what happened. It’s about what the scar means! I didn’t get this from a simple round of torture. If I had, that would be easier to deal with. I could forget about it without a second thought. I’m used to torture.” He was pissed. It was as simple as that. Being forced to face this wasn’t fair, and he wasn’t going to take it lying down. “It’s a brand, Liam! A _brand_! The hunters wanted me to know they owned me! _That’s_ why I hate it! _That’s_ why I can’t stand to look at it, and _that’s_ why it is _not_ just a scar!”

“I-I didn’t know-” Liam’s stuttering wasn’t helping him calm down. Rather, it had the opposite effect.  
“Maybe because it’s none of your business.”  
“You should have told me-”  
“I don’t owe you anything, Liam. You don’t need to know my every thought.” The McCall Pack always wanted to know everything. Nothing was private.  
“It should disappear once we find a way to change you back.”  
“You mean _if_ we find a way.”  
“Theo-”  
“I’m starting to doubt we’ll ever fix this. It’s been months, Liam. We’re no closer to an answer than we were when this started.” He just wanted it to end. He moved to sit on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face.

The mattress shifted as Liam sat beside him. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t the soft expression he saw. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that neither of them were the comforting type. He definitely wasn’t and Liam.... At least not with him.  
“I can’t imagine what this is like for you. I know I wouldn’t be the easiest person to live with, had it been me. No one has given up, Theo. There has to be a way.”  
“I never would have thought we’d be here. With you reassuring me.” This was not how he pictured their ‘relationship’, or whatever it was they had, strained and violent as it was, turning out.  
“You’re telling me. Usually it’s you keeping me from doing something stupid. We should try this more often.” The slight smile from Liam made him laugh. Something had definitely changed between them. What, he couldn’t say, but he thought it had changed for the better. Once he finally relaxed enough to lie down, Liam left and surprisingly, the fear didn’t return.


	14. Chapter 14

His heart was pounding. He’d woken up in a sweat. It was happening. This was actually happening. It felt too good to be real. He was afraid if he blinked it would be gone. That he’d been asleep the entire time and nothing had changed. That the call had never occurred. Early that morning, Liam had received a call from Scott. It had sounded urgent based on the sudden change in Liam’s stance. The way Liam was suddenly wide awake, when only moments before Liam had been rubbing his eyes. The words ‘are you sure?’ weren’t exactly reassuring. The urgent ‘we’ll be right there’, left his stomach in knots. He’d been sure it was bad news. That Scott had told Liam there was no cure. No solution. That he was stuck like this. As it turns out, the Pack had spent last night (since his departure) and having worked through the night, had found what they’d been looking for. If all went to plan, he could be himself again by tonight.

He felt euphoric. A sense of being on top of the world, (uncharacteristic as it was), overtook him. It took a lot of effort to restrain his excitement. Liam may be able to hear his heartbeat, the doubtless rapid pace giving him away, but that didn’t mean Liam had to see it as well. Having emotions had been a tough sell; not that he’d had a choice. Being free had been such a relief, that he hadn’t realised initially. The fear he’d felt when Liam said it was a mistake to release him was understandable. Who wouldn’t be afraid of being sent back there? It wasn’t until the next day that he noticed something was different. There was something else, something he hadn’t known before. Guilt. Regret. It was all he could feel for a long time. It was a big part of why he’d accepted his new life. Why he’d accepted the danger. The cold. The loneliness, cramps and sleepless nights. It was repentance for his crimes.

It wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. Which was easier when you had years of practice; it’s not like he grew up in luxury. It still got to him though. These last six years had taken a toll; this was the most hopeful he’d been... and that’s why it couldn’t be simple.  
A catch. There was always a catch.

“A witch? You want us to trust a witch?” Liam’s disbelief matched his own. It was ridiculous. “You do realise it was a witch who started all of this?”  
“Theo’s the one who pissed her off. If you’re looking for someone to blame, he’s standing right there.” Malia knew how to turn everything onto him. The witch had insulted him first. Just because he wouldn’t stand back and take it, didn’t give her the right to mess with his life. Liam didn’t take kindly to her opinion either. For a moment, he thought Liam was ready to tackle Malia. An all out attack.  
“Why are you even here? You don’t care, so just go.” Liam’s voice was practically dripping venom. This was the first time they’d seen Malia since that night, and Liam had been holding back. It took a lot to convince Liam not to track her down and start screaming. There had been more than one occasion when he’d had to coax Liam off a ledge. To talk Liam down before he did something stupid. Why Liam was so determined to defend him was still a mystery.  
“I’m here for Scott. Not Theo. He can rot for all I care.”

“You tied him up! You had the power and you used it against him! How is that any better?!” Liam was on the verge of shifting, claws already visible. This is why he hadn’t gone anywhere near Malia if he could help it. He didn’t want to risk giving her another reason to lash out, for his sake and Liam’s. It wouldn’t be pretty if he’d come back injured by her again. There would have been no restraining the beta.  
“I’d do it again.”  
That was the final straw. The lack of remorse. The blatant threat. Shifting, Liam growled and leapt at Malia, who in turn fought back. Stiles took Malia’s side (big surprise), whilst Scott grabbed Liam and tried to drag him away. He watched as Scott dodged Malia’s teeth, narrowly avoiding Liam’s claws in the process in an attempt to pry the two apart. It wasn’t until a roar, that of an Alpha tore across the room, that Liam stood back.

“Enough.” Scott was tired. He hadn’t realised just how much this had affected Scott. Preventing two members of his Pack from fighting couldn’t be easy. Nor would it make this any better. “We can’t be at each other’s throats all the time. Malia, I think it’s best if you went home. Liam, control yourself.” Neither were happy with the decision but they didn’t challenge it either. Malia stormed out, leaving an unsettled Pack behind. “Theo, Deaton said he knows this witch. He said she’ll help.”  
Scott always did see the good in people. It’s not a bad quality. It’s just led those with ill intentions closer. It’s the reason he nearly succeeded with the Dread Doctors. It’s that quality which causes Scott to try to negotiate with their enemies. It was also why he wasn’t sure this was a good idea. Deaton wasn’t someone he relied on. Not that he would say he relied on many people, if anyone. It was daunting putting trust in someone else, when he’d spent nearly his entire life looking out for himself.

“I will.”  
He jumped at the abrupt unknown voice. Behind him, standing in the doorway, was a woman. Beautiful and intimidating. It didn’t take a genius to know who she was. He took a sharp step back, distancing himself from her.  
“Don’t fear, child. I mean you no harm.”  
“I am _not_ a child.” Witch or not, he wasn’t going to be treated like this. He wouldn’t stand for such disrespect. “How do we know you’re not lying? How do I know you won’t cast another spell?” He had a right to ask. This was his life they were talking about. Scott’s warning tone meant nothing. He wasn’t going to back down, not without good cause. Not without a degree of assurance he wouldn’t come out worse than he was now.  
“It’s quite alright, alpha. It would be remiss to disregard your friends’ reservations. He has experienced a great injustice; one I must confess was committed by my own sister.”  
“Your sister? Your sister?! Is this a joke? _This_ is who Deaton called?! You expect me to believe you aren’t like her?! That there’s no hidden agenda? Deaton’s not even here to explain how he knows you. Why didn’t he mention you sooner? It’s been months and he’s only just mentioned you exist.”

The witch didn’t budge. She just continued talking. As if this was normal. “I understand your hesitation, young man.” He took a deep breath hearing the term. It wasn’t great but it was better. At least she’d changed it from child. If she was willing to listen and respect his disdain for such treatment, then maybe she was here to help, after all. “Let me introduce myself. I am Pacifica. Alan is, as you’ve remarked, absent. He is assisting our elders with a matter in urgent need of his expertise. As for the delay in contacting me, I have been unreachable for quite some time. I’ve known Alan for most of his life, and I owe him a debt of gratitude. When I heard of your predicament, I agreed to provide a remedy. My sister, Morgana, betrayed everything our coven stands for by attacking your town and cursing you. We desire peace between our kinds, not war. I shall restore your true state; all I ask is that you permit our coven to be the one to reprimand Morgana and bring forth justice for your people.”

It sounded fair. Besides, it’s not like they had any idea how they would have stopped her otherwise. This would solve both problems at once. The Pack agreed on the condition Pacifica also find those Morgana had kidnapped. All that was left was for him to accept. The thought of having another spell cast on him was far from pleasant. Pushing the nausea down, he forced himself to nod. Despite that, he stepped back as Pacifica edged towards him. He found he was standing partially hidden behind Liam. Not his proudest moment, but he couldn’t take it back. At least he knew Liam wouldn’t intentionally hurt him.  
“I promise, you shall not come to harm by my hand.” Bracing, he watched as Pacifica raised a hand; a trail of light linking their wrists. Blinding as it was, he looked away. A strange feeling stirred within him; the sense something wasn’t right. It felt like his body was contorting; changing. Unlike Morgana however, it was slow. Drawn out. Which made it deeply uncomfortable. Pacifica was apologetic, but insisted it had to be a gradual process. Any faster, and he would pass out from the shock.

Without warning, the link sparked and sent a wave of light through the room. When it faded, he was twenty-three again. It was finally over. He could go back to how it was before all of this started. He could finally leave Liam’s. The thought left a tightness in his chest. It wasn’t great but at least he’d have time to himself. Without being watched all the time. Liam didn’t miss the change; his rising heartbeat. Ignoring the unnerving gaze directed his way, he focused on Pacifica.  
“Thank you.” He meant it. He wouldn’t be standing here were it not for her.  
“You’re welcome. Morgana shall not cause your town any further concern. You have my guarantee.”  
Just like that, she was gone.

“So, Theo.” Stiles started almost instantly. As usual, Stiles didn’t even flinch at his glare. “How’s it feel to grow up? Feeling human this time around?”   
He wasn’t in the mood for this. Not when it was finally over. He had his truck outside. All he had to do was walk out and drive. It was as simple as that. He could be gone before any of the Pack could stop him. That is, it would have been had Liam not followed him. _Every time_. Every time he thought he was done; that he was out, they pulled him back in.  
“What do you want, Liam?”  
“Are you okay?”  
That made him freeze. It was the last question he expected to be asked. Despite the past few weeks, nothing had changed. He was still the guy who had tried to tear the Pack apart. He was still the guy who had threatened, hurt and manipulated. That wasn’t something you forgave. Not easily, at least. He would be lying if he said he didn’t hope that one day the Pack would. That maybe, just maybe he could be one of them. That didn’t mean he wasn’t realistic, and no one cared enough about him to check on him. Other than Liam, apparently.  
“I’m fine.” Just because Liam asked, didn’t mean he wanted to hear the truth. It was probably just courtesy. Liam didn’t believe him, judging by the question lying in his eyes. Liam did however, decide against pushing the matter.

“Would you like to come back to my place? My parents would love to know your safe.”  
This day kept getting stranger. Liam was inviting him over? After spending weeks together? “Sure.” His uncertainty could be heard. He would have plenty of time to himself from here on out. A few hours wouldn’t make much difference. Besides, he felt like he owed it to Jenna and David. They had, after all, allowed him to stay with them. The least he could do was thank them before he left.

On the drive there, both sat in silence. It felt good to be in control, to be driving again. The silence was comfortable. Usually it only fed their anger and frustration, but today, it was somewhat reassuring.  
“Thank you.” Liam looked over, confused. “For not saying anything.” It didn’t take much to know what he was referring to. There was only one thing they hadn’t spoken about since it had occurred. His nightmares. Twice Liam bore witness to the toll they took on him, to his terror. Twice Liam chose not to mention it. Not once had Liam given even a hint that they existed. He appreciated it more than he could bring himself to say. It would be humiliating were the Pack to find out.  
“It wasn’t my secret to tell.” Was that really the only reason? It shouldn’t be that surprising. Other than Stiles and Malia, the McCall Pack weren’t the type to use someone’s weaknesses against them. Not like he had. Even after everything with the Dread Doctors, Liam still kept quiet. He wasn’t accustomed to being shown respect. To being treated like what he thought mattered. That what he _wanted_ mattered. “If you ever want to talk about it though, I’ll listen.”   
It was a nice sentiment, but he wasn’t ready to relive it. Not when he had to almost every time he closed his eyes. He might never be. A silent agreement was forged in that moment though, that it would remain unspoken and untouched, unless he brought it up himself.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. The second last chapter of Part One. 😬 I can’t believe it’s nearly finished.
> 
> Sorry for the wait. I hope y’all have enjoyed it so far and there’s a lot more to come. 😁

They were met with bright smiles when they arrived home. It was a better greeting than when he’d had to explain why Theo was a child. His parents were thrilled to see everything had been fixed. So much so, that they may have let a ‘hopefully, this is the last time,’ slip. Oh great, because that never goes wrong. Voicing such a thought was like asking the universe to do just that. To take it as a challenge. He really hoped this was the exception to the rule. It took a while to make it through the onslaught of questions directed their way; some might say it was an interrogation. Theo was clearly uncomfortable. He may not be able to hear Theo’s heartbeat anymore, but he had learned some of Theo’s tells. The tensed shoulders. The brief glances to the door when Theo thought no one was looking. He noticed signs he never would have seen a few months ago. Back then, it would have gone right over his head. How many times had he missed similar signs over the years? How many times had Theo been uncomfortable without anyone realising? How many times had _the Pack_ been the cause?  
All he knew, was he couldn’t go back. He’d seen another side to Theo through all of this, and that wasn’t something he could forget. He couldn’t just pretend none of this had happened. Knowing what he knew now, changed how he saw Theo. It changed how he thought about the Chimera. He had been listening to Theo’s conversation with his parents loosely; mind drifting from one scenario to another. Every one involved how they’d treated Theo. Every one involved the reactions they’d likely missed.

“Thank you, Mrs Dunbar, Mr Geyer. For letting me stay with you.”  
“You’re welcome, Theo and please, call us Jenna and David. I think you’ve earned it.” It was a startling change for his mum, considering how hesitant she had been to allow Theo anywhere near them in the beginning. Theo’s eyes widened slightly, proving he wasn’t the only one surprised.

“Well, I better go.” That caught his attention immediately. Theo was leaving. Already. It should feel right; after all they’d spent months together. That was the longest they’d been around one another, in one room since they’d met. He should be glad to finally get his bed back... right? So, why did he feel lost? As he followed Theo out to his truck, he didn’t know what to say. Should he say anything?  
“Would you relax?”  
The sudden question startled him. “What?”  
Theo simply raised an eyebrow as if the answer were obvious. Which it probably was or at least, it should have been. Theo was a chimera... his heartbeat. It was all too easy to get used to no longer having to hide how he felt - well, try to anyway.  
“Stop that.”  
“You’ve heard mine for months now. I think I’m entitled to listen to yours.” At Theo’s smirk, he was questioning whether he really wanted Theo to stay or not. He could do without this.  
“Don’t be a dick. I never mentioned yours.”  
“That’s your problem.”  
“Why can’t you just say goodbye and leave it at that?”  
“You going to miss me, Liam?”  
“Don’t flatter yourself.”  
Theo’s casual smirk made him laugh. It was such a simple change, a slight softness now that wasn’t there in the initial grin. The earlier teasing replaced by something playful. It was good to see that confidence, that bravado he was used to. Theo was back and safe. There was one question remaining though. Knowing how sensitive this was, he broached the subject as carefully as he could. “Theo, I... has your scar healed?”  
For a second, Theo’s control faltered. He heard the sharp increase in his heartbeat before Theo could restore his mask. He saw the realisation dawning within the eyes glancing back at him. The panic. Theo had forgotten. If only for a moment, Theo had forgotten about the burnt skin beneath his shirt. Theo had forgotten about what it meant and with one question, he’d brought it all back to the surface.  
“I haven’t looked.”  
“Maybe you should? It might be better to do it before you go. When you’re not alone.”  
“Trying to check me out, Liam?”

By now, he had learned some of Theo’s traits. Some more than others, and one had just been called on. Sarcasm was a defence mechanism. A way to block out the pain, the fear... the unknown. It was a wall to hide behind. Anytime something became real, if Theo’s emotions became involved, Theo reverted to yet another sardonic comment. Another insult. Theo clutched to his wit and appearance, as the lifeline they were. This wasn’t an easy topic to confront. Let alone accept. He knew how nervous Theo was, even without the heartbeat or chemosignals to help.  
“Theo, I know how you feel about this. I know how hard it is. You shouldn’t be alone.” It earned little more than a glare. “Please, Theo.” It was a moment before either of them moved. A moment suffocatingly tense in its silence. Theo just stared at him, not wanting to give in. “It’ll be okay.”  
Finally, he saw a slight ease in Theo’s shoulders. A minute weight having fallen. “If you care that much, then fine but not a word.”  
He simply nodded in agreement. He didn’t want to risk saying anything which would change Theo’s mind. He didn’t want to frighten Theo away. Silently, he watched as Theo turned around. A tentative hand slowly edging towards the shirt, fingers playing with its collar. Fingers stilling, afraid to move any further. Afraid of what might be there, of what they might find. A deep breath, and that final step was taken. It was then he knew something was wrong. All it took was one look and he knew. He knew. Theo had gone rigid; his hand clenched around the thin fabric of his shirt.  
“Theo?” Nothing. Not a sign he’d been heard. “Theo?” He took a step forward; slowly, carefully. The laboured breathing was the next sign. The fact Theo wasn’t monitoring or masking the physical signs, spoke to how affected Theo was by this. Placing a hand on Theo’s shoulder, he felt the snap. That was all it took to break the trance. Theo jolted forward, away from his reach. He could only watch as Theo lost control. The broken pieces of a man hurt more times than one could count.  
He stood there, helpless, as Theo threw a fist towards the truck door. He saw how Theo stopped mere centimetres from the metal. Even now, Theo wouldn’t damage the truck. It meant too much. That didn’t stop Theo from lashing out. Theo simply redirected his anger. This time at the concrete beneath them. He watched in horror as Theo repeatedly struck the ground; the sound of bones snapping imprinted in his mind. He wanted to stop Theo, to pull Theo back but he couldn’t. It would only make it worse. Theo needed this. As much as he didn’t like it, Theo needed to let his anger out. His distress.  
The screaming and groaning lured his parents to the driveway. They would have come closer, were it not for the look he gave them. One look which spoke of Theo’s need for time, for privacy. Having a larger audience than required would only push Theo over the edge. Being seen like this, was the last thing Theo wanted. Although reluctant, his parents made their way inside. He knew he’d have to explain later, but that could wait. All that mattered right now was being there for Theo. After what felt like an eternity, Theo finally stopped. He breathed out, letting go of the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Theo collapsed, leaning against the truck with an air of defeat.

Cautiously, he sat down beside Theo, eyes drawn to Theo’s bloodied hand. It had been crushed in the frenzied assault. That alone, wasn’t what concerned him the most. He knew it would heal. The shocking part, was that Theo didn’t even seem to realise how much damage he’d inflicted. Instead, when he tried to meet Theo’s eyes, he found him merely staring at the street ahead. An absent look in those green eyes.  
“It’ll be okay.”  
Theo turned to him, furious. “That’s what you said before. Where did that get me? Nowhere.”  
“You don’t have to yell-”  
“It’s still there, Liam!”  
“I know, but the hunters were arrested-”  
“Is that supposed to make it better?! Who cares if they were arrested? They still own me, Liam! They won! It doesn’t matter how far away they are. The brand is still there. They own me.” By the end, Theo had stopped yelling. The anger was gone, replaced by despair. It hurt seeing Theo like this. The man who was always confident, who didn’t care what people thought... he’d been broken, or maybe he always was. Maybe they had never really known Theo. The confidence may have been a mask in itself.  
“We’ll fix it. I promise.”  
“How?” Theo almost sounded desperate. “If having the curse reversed didn’t remove it, then what will?”  
Honestly, he had no idea. This was so far out of his area of expertise, he didn’t know where to start. That however, wasn’t going to stop him from finding the answer. No matter how long it took, he would find a way to remove that brand.  
“We’ll figure it out. We always do. I’m not letting a couple of hunters beat us.”  
Theo didn’t respond. Not that he cared. He wasn’t looking for an answer. The only important part was that Theo knew he wasn’t alone. As Theo stood up and climbed into the truck, driving off wordlessly, he swore to himself he’d help him. 


	16. Chapter 16

It had been a few days since he’d left Liam’s. Since he’d gone home. He had no idea how he felt about that. On one hand, he was finally alone. Completely alone. No one listening in on him from down the hall. No one monitoring his every movement, his every thought. On the other hand, he was back to where he’d started.  
Living in his truck.  
It was all he had to call his own. To call home.  
It might not be great, but at least here he wouldn’t be bothered. He could finally find some degree of quiet. That is, until a deputy turned up and ordered him to drive away. _You can’t park here_. He’d heard it time and time again. Never mind that a 23 year old boy was sleeping in his truck. Never mind that it had been occurring since he was only 18. That would go unmentioned, so long as he didn’t park in the wrong spot.  
It had always angered him that those who claimed to be good, to be looking out for others, could so carelessly leave him there. That the town Sheriff could both condone and subject him to being homeless. That was the truth of it. The Sheriff may not have been responsible for putting him here, but he was responsible for allowing it to continue. Had he treated the Pack badly? Yes. Had he targeted the Sheriff and Stiles themselves? Yes. Did that mean he shouldn’t feel safe? That he should be forced to live like this? Apparently, it did. Now, to make it worse, he had to deal with the constant reminder the hunters had gotten the better of him. That they owned him. It may seem easy to say it didn’t matter. That it was just a burn. It didn’t have to mean anything if he chose to ignore it. To not dwell on it. It shouldn’t bother him. He shouldn’t care. It wasn’t him sitting in a prison cell, after all. The problem was, he did care. He cared more than he wanted to admit. He cared more than he knew how to manage. It was more than just a burn. It was more than a scar. The brand... it had taken something from him. A part of him he’d held onto since he’d first met the Dread Doctors. A need to be powerful. To protect himself. It was a matter of survival. Now, he had a permanent reminder that he’d failed. It was a sign he’d been weak. That he’d been trapped. It meant he belonged to the hunters, whether he was free or not. He was theirs.

Pacifica, at least, had kept her word and found the towns people trapped in a cave past the border. From what he understood, they were being used as a power source. Morgana had been feeding on their energy; unconcerned that they were dying. Dozens were lying in Beacon Hills Memorial; those who were taken first had fared worse. When Pacifica had found them, they had been close to death. The spell she cast protected them, but it would take time for their bodies to heal. Those taken last were lucky, in that the effects had been minimal; fatigue and confusion mostly.  
He didn’t know what would happen to Morgana. The coven would gather to decide on an appropriate punishment, but beyond that, they wouldn’t be informed. He took some comfort in Pacifica’s reassurance she wouldn’t be a threat. Two weeks passed and Morgana hadn’t returned. Much to his relief, since he didn’t know what he would have done if he had to face her again.

If there was one positive to come out of all of this, it was that he and Liam had made some progress. The last six years had helped form something between them. He didn’t know what exactly, but it was there. Over the last few months, that connection had strengthened. It seemed tangible. Something he could rely on. Maybe Jenna was right. Maybe now they could start to become friends. He just hoped Liam could find a way to remove the brand. If there was one thing he now knew though, it was that Liam wouldn’t stop until they did. He’d never had someone who would do that for him. Even when he was younger. Tara had done a lot for him; she’d loved him. She’d have wanted to help, but he didn’t know how long that would last. Given how long it could take to find an answer. _If_ they found an answer. As for his parents... well. That was hard to explain. He did however, know that he wouldn’t be able to count on them for something like this. Something this important.  
Liam, on the other hand, he knew he could trust. Hard as it was to imagine, he could trust Liam. He didn’t think he’d ever have that again. That sense of comfort with someone else. Not since Tara. It was starting to look like there might just be a chance for him. A chance for an easier life. A chance to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That’s it. That’s officially the end of ‘Rewind’. 🥺 Well... onto Part 2! 😉
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I’ll try to be quick.🥰🤞


End file.
